The kickoff persona is a narration detergent builder and beginning to a serial publication, it's filled with a few childhood play ; that build the character of my later on story profile.
It may not be to everyone's liking, but each story needs a start.
Bare with it, the sex scenarios begin after this chapter.


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From my ahead of time childhood, I had been fascinated with the rapscallion element of society.
Be it rogue minibike gang, Latin bunch or African American English bunch ; silly I know.
Maybe these voodoo or phantasy stem from revilement at the hands of my immediate family or it was always there.

I grew up in a region that had a Biker gang and as long as I can think of, they never did anything wrong.
As five class old I used to sticky beak and sit outside the headquarters, hoping one day to be ridden around the neighbourhood on the rachis of one.

They were always friendly to me and my much honest-to-goodness crony ; in fact my brother would do errands for them.
Like go to the shops, bring back a newspaper bag of shopping etc.
Thanks to my Brother, my dream came true.
As I was small they had me perched on the armoured combat vehicle of the cycle not the rear.
It was such a buzz ; I mentioned it the next day at school at display and tell.

It was my daily ritual as a five to six twelvemonth old, to hang outside the club ; and trust to get a ride.
Some days I got my wish well, but former Clarence Shepard Day Jr. I just got a wave.

By the metre I was eight I was getting rides on the rear of the bikes and hugging my rider as we cruised around the block.
I was on cloud nine, the fry at schooling reckoned I was telling lies ; until one day we cruised by a few of them.

At schoolhouse, no one messed with after that ; even though they did n't anyway.
My Dad did n't bear in mind nor worry, as long as I did n't get hurt or they did n't ride to fast.
He did n't know my brother was their gopher, though.



At home things weren't so good.
Mum and Dad started arguing, it was about finances I think.
My pal moved out when I was nine, and Mum went and found herself a part-time job at a local habiliment factory.
The arguments stopped ; at least I couldn't hear any.

She started work before I was due home plate from work and finished, when I was in bed.
Dad was getting extra time and would come dwelling house until dark.

So with my brother out of the motion picture, they asked my Uncle ( Steve ) to expect after me.
Up until then, I rarely saw my Uncle ; and now I was seeing him after school each day.
He would stay and have Tea with Dad, then leave for his home.


matter seemed to square off down for the future few months.
Steve would watch bug bunny and cartoons with me, before starting to make our Tea.



Dad was coming home totally bushed and would pass out sometimes on the couch ; after his 12 hour shift.



It was sometime during the next year, that matter went pear-shaped.
I was ten close to eleven, when Uncle Steve finally tricked then forced himself on me.
With no one to help me, I was at his mercy.

I have vague retentivity of this time, but I will never blank out the pain and the blood of the first time he molested me.
Almost instantly I withdrew from people and wasn't my normal self.
It didn't stop him, continually molested me day-after-day during the schoolhouse week.

This went on ; for well over a year.


Dad blamed my genial state on the fact I used to hero-worship the bikers, and now I wasn't mixing with them.
Steve was still molesting me, throughout this time.
The school advised my mum to seek counseling, for me.
We couldn't afford it so, cypher was done.


I don't remember too much of those years, only in blurs and flashes ; maybe trauma.



matter didn't change until one day when ; Dad came home early from work.
He stood shocked, as he witnessed me bent over the redact arm and Steve fucking me.


Dad grabbed hold of him, and threw him against the wall.
Things smashed.
Steve tried to blame me but Dad wasn't having any of that, and beat him senseless.

They fought all over the business firm, until the police force came.
The mansion was trashed.
Both Dad and Uncle Steve were arrested.



From then on, Dad stopped working over fourth dimension ; and I had to seek professional counseling.
I was placed on anti-depressants for about three month ; as I was in a dark-skinned berth mentally.


Uncle Steve was not welcomed in our business firm from then on.


I had lost two year out of my childhood and now I was twelve ; with a few genial issues but on improving.
So now after school, I was told to go to a acquaintance of mine's house ( Julie ) ; and hold back for Dad to pick me up.

When thing in my head returned to normalcy and my grinning returned, I was allowed to return to my old routine ; of hanging out near the Biker Clubhouse.

They were my new babysitters, Dad would honk his car automobile horn and then I would wave good-bye to them.


Arguments returned to the household and by the clock time I was xiii, my parents had separated and were divorced.


Unluckily, I was made to stay with Mum.

I was always a Daddy's girl, before my recent trauma ; now Dad was gone.

Once Mum forced Dad out of the picture, she started doing her own thing ; and her inner demons were finally released.
Her demons were called ; Vodka and slot machines.



This is where my story begins.

One publication wasn't the grounds my parent divorced, be it my molestation at the script of my uncle, which resulted in my mother drinking vodka or the constant money problems, which weren't helped by her addiction to slot political machine ; probably both don't help.

I blamed myself at the time.


One weekends I stayed with Dad, but briefly as he moved into nation and I contact with him.

The meds I was prescribed to fight my hurt and depression ; made me zombie like and helped me mix up events and times.


On a summation side or disconfirming side, I was taken of these MEd after three months.
I was thirteen and suddenly I was out of my drug controlled like ; but I was always horny.

I couldn't beat the urge to constantly want to feel myself ; be it at home base or in course or bed.
The need to rub my button was overwhelming for the first few months ; after I came of my meds.

Mum was disgusted in me, and told me to do that in my room.
She would then go on one of her common sot bombast, until I left her alone in the lounge.
At the time I thought Mum gave me permission, to do it in my room.
Deep down, my own ogre were surfacing ; I thought there was something wrong with me.


In class, I didn't see anyone else doing what I couldn't avail doing.
I'd be arching my neck backwards with my eyes closed ; as I fingered myself and moaning as I cum.
My fellow class couple would snigger amongst themselves ; as they knew what I was getting up too.

I would feel so embarrassed so after, as I could see them staring at me and giggling.

"Gee does she need a boyfriend badly ”, I heard mortal say, one time.
They giggled even more amongst themselves.



I spent More time in year with my fingers in my wet cunt, biting my lower lip to terminate me from screaming out ; then school day studies ; and it showed in my failing grades.

My panty would always be wet and soiled, throughout the day.

Sometimes I would cum so hard, my legs would riff heterosexual and I would kvetch the chair in forepart of me.

It seemed because of my desire to get off ; I was the butt of everyone's jokes.
"smelling that, person's kitty juice are good ”.
"Something smells fish around her ”.

It seemed the simply time I wasn't fingering myself was in course I liked.

After my first few clock time of having orgasms ; I would smell then sense of taste my finger afterwards.
Smelt a bit like a messy tuna fish sandwich, but the taste was something special and I had yet to figure out.


I was eventually was busted in form one day doing exactly that, by one of the catty girls.
"Ew, yuck ”, She, howled out.
That girl got me detention and a word of advice from my year co-coordinator.


My home was dysfunctional and almost unbearable.
One on slope there was me constantly playing with myself without attention and then there was my Mother on the other ; constantly wasting money on slot machines and drunk.

I was happiest after schooling, she was at work and I could disinvest off and do whatever I wanted ; and I did.


Mum's money job became an issue and we began to move around a lot ; almost every few month due to her problem.

We ended up settling in a grating neighborhood, which was not a good area for a fourteen year old ; to walk the streets alone.

Mum didn't care, she only cared for herself ; and some weeknights I never saw her.
When I did we would campaign as she was drunk and always argumentative.

This is probably, how my Mum and Dad were like before ; but Dad wasn't here now to soak up her rubbish.

My reply would be to storm off and out of the business firm, for long walks.
I can't wait to proceed to out.


We had no TV now, as Mum hocked it off ; so it was boring at home.
Mum also rarely bought me new clothes, and sometimes didn't remember to do the washing.
At metre I wore smelly and soiled dress to school.

Over time my urge to finger myself wasn't as great but was still there.
After school I would still strip and walk the house naked and eventually feel myself, in the lounge on our couch.
I would have a small nap and then frock ; and explore the neighborhood.


I had no ally nearby, so in this neighborhood I was a stranger.
So I would twit my push-bike around, checking out a gym, some old factories and then a big fortified fenced building.

It was the old Motorcycle Club, my brother used to run errands for.
It looked slightly different to what I remembered, but it was the same club.
The flag flapping from the roof, gave it away.

It had been a few years since I bumped into anyone there.


I climbed a tree to see over the fence.
What I saw was, loads of wrecked cars around the yard and a biker doing some work on some motorbikes.


Wicked, I thought to myself, it was bringing back computer storage of proficient times.
So my natural action after school day now for about a week was to, go home base finger myself and the ride my motorcycle to the club ; and watch from up this tree.

It was always the same biker repairing bikes.
He spotted me and yelled out.
"Hey you, get down from there,"he yelled, and walked out and confronted me ; with a big dog.

I almost crapped my pants and fell out of the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, in fear.

The dog barked and barked at me, as I tentatively climbed down from the tree.
My skirt caught on twig and it made me accrue, and it made a diminished rip in it.


I was on my hands and knees, and panicking.
Fearful of him, but I was more cautious of ; his out of control dog.

"So sad,"I apologized softly.
The dog started snarling at me.

The man smirked as I dropped my gaze.
He ruffled my fuzz and presented me with his hand, and helped me to my feet.

"I'm ivory and this is Max ”, the biker said.
"Jessinta or Jess ”, I said.

"Would you like a Coke ?"He asked, and he led me into the yard.
I followed and wheeled my biker into the yard.


Max started to calm down once we were both, inside.
I sat on the punk of a wrecked car, drinking a Coke.
clappers went back to working on a bike.

"What are you doing ?"I asked.
"Tuning the carburetor,"he replied.

I showed some interest in what he was doing and hung around him like glue, that day.

off-white was cleanse cut and in his 1930s.
His jacket had no patch but for one that said, ‘ vista ’.
All he seemed to do was fix motorbikes.


When it started to get dismal, more rockers turned up.
I smile at them but dropped my gaze.

When it was dark, os advised me to impart my bike here ; and he would ride me home on a bike.

I did as he said.


He passed me a helmet and I spread my legs apart and sat on the back of his Harley.

It almost felt like home, being back on the seat of a Harley and hugging a Biker ; as we rode the road.

With my kitty and ass bedcover across the wide bicycle seat, I groaned with each extrusion we hit ; but I wasn't complaining.


It was a commencement of a new found relationship ; that was empty in my aliveness for so long.
Bones was both my chum and Padre ; and friend.

I spent the majority of my evenings, flirting and pestering with Bones.

Over the next three month, I became close friends with Bones ; and I started learning about bike maintenance.


> > > JESSINTA 1B - Biker missy