In Aunt Lisas Bondage Pt 06

Ladies and Gentlemen for this, the final part of my 'Aunt Lisa' series, i'll be totally honest there's not much sexual action contained within. Again it's more about bikes, and in particular motorcycle racing, as Bridget takes her skills onto the racetrack. I will completely understand if any of you reading this aren't interested to go any further after that statement, but i enjoyed writing this final chapter. And, at the end of the day, whilst i hope many of you enjoy my muses, it is the enjoyment of writing that is the main reason that i do so.

*****

TRAGEDY AWAITS AUNT LISA

Winter. My least favourite time of year, I'll be honest. Cold, but above all dark, especially early in the morning, the time on a Saturday or Sunday, when during the summer months often finds me out for a ride on a motorcycle. In particular the M.V. Agusta F3 675 that I'd obtained last year, my now wife, Lisa, had bought it for me, although it must be pointed out that I'd done some real quality work for the company that she was on the Board of Directors of, and therefore it could be said I'd earned it for myself. But on this January morning, at six o'clock in the early morning it was cold, dark and wet outside. Not ideal motorbike riding condition!

However, if I couldn't get my adrenaline 'fix' by riding a fast sports bike, then there were other ways to excite my body. Like waking up, as I often did at weekends, to find myself securely bound to the bed, just in stockings and suspenders, by Lisa; ready and waiting to be shagged utterly senseless by her! Not that I was complaining mind, I just adored being captured and rendered helpless by her, knowing I could fully trust and believe in her as she took me to ecstasy again and again. And this particular day was no exception, being quite a heavy sleeper, I had discovered, to my utter delight, that Lisa was a complete expert at tying me up without waking me. And her bondage, although secure and absolutely inescapable, was never unsafe or any threat to my circulation for example. So, yet again, I awoke to find myself completely at Lisa's mercy, not that she intended to show my any of that commodity, well not until she'd utterly exhausted herself by giving me a real 'sexperience.' Oh, by the way, I think it only fair to point out that I'm female myself, and as well as being my wife now, Lisa is in fact my mother's younger sister, she is my aunt.

But this Saturday morning was to take a different turn, for as Lisa and I were eating breakfast, both of us having built up a need for food after vigorously feeding a different form of appetite, the 'phone rang.

It was Jonathan Wheatcroft, one of the owners of 'Forza Moto Italia,' the motorcycle dealership that had supplied the F3. Oh, and the other bike that Lisa had, totally unknown to me, purchased at the same time, a far more sedate touring type model, a Brutale 800cc. Point being that this machine has a full dual seat, meaning Lisa can and does accompany me on this bike. And he had some exciting news for me. M.V. Agusta U.K. had decided to sponsor a rider, if only in club racing, motorcycle racings 'bottom rung' here in Britain. The winner of this prize would be selected from all the purchasers of either an F3, or the bigger F4 model, over the last two years. Basically, he was asking if he could put my name forward. If so, I would then take part in an extensive trial, based at a full racing circuit, to select the lucky winner.

"So, can I forward your entry, Bridget? I know you can ride well, I'm sure you won't disgrace yourself at all, and who knows? You could even win!"

Wow! The chance to become a racer? To actually compete on a motorbike? Was I interested? You betcha life I was, Mister! "Yes, please Jonathan, thank you very much. I'm definitely up for that! I'd love to try racing a bike, to see just how well I can ride. And as you say, even if I wasn't selected, I'm sure I'd learn quite a lot, and enjoyed some track riding."

"Good. I'll be delighted to put your name forward. With the utmost pleasure. Hope Lisa doesn't mind too much!"

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled for me."

And she was! "Darling, that's wonderful news. Jonathan's right, I've no doubt that you'll enjoy the chance to ride on a racetrack. And just like him I truly believe that you'll be a real contender! I know, first hand of course, just what a talent for riding you have."

"Lisa, track riding is different from the road. But I fully intend finding out just how good I can be, I'll be giving it my all, that's for sure!

The selection day took place at the Brands Hatch race circuit in Southern England, in mid-March. I'd got my own F3 out of 'winter hibernation' early, going for a couple of rides to reacquaint myself with performance riding, before the day arrived. Of course, Lisa accompanied my, we had been tempted to ride there on the Brutale, but decided against it, just in case I did hurt myself, so went in her car instead. Once there I paid FULL attention to the instructions the class received before any of us ventured onto the hallowed tarmac itself, absorbing all the advice given by our guides, all of whom were present or ex racers themselves.

Above all, the very wise suggestion not to 'rush' into setting the world alright straight away, find my own limit and get a feel for racing lines, using ALL of the track, instead of only half of it as riding on the public road demanded.

Soon after the session had started it became clear that there were certain riders amongst us who were clearly not distended to became racing riders, they just hadn't 'got it.' And there were those for whom patience wasn't a virtue, most of them ending up on the ground very quickly, their trial and chance over. At the end of that first track session, the fifty or so of us had been whittled down to just twenty. One of whom was me. Yes, I had started carefully, as advised building up speed as my confidence grew, until I was lapping very respectfully and smoothly. And finding that I was enjoying myself immensely, even being in bed, or more accurately tied to it, with Lisa didn't quite match this for sheer adrenalin. Not that I told her, of course!

My steady improvement continued unabated during the next session, when twenty became just ten, and again I'd qualified within this successful group. Who would now compete against each other in a short four lap race. Which, using everything I'd learnt that day, I won, meaning it was me who'd become a racer, riding a sponsored F3 in the 'Super Sport' class, for 600cc machine with four-cylinder engines, and triples like the F3 and the popular Triumph 675cc engine vehicles being eligible because although larger they had a cylinder less.

Having obtained an Auto Cycle Union Racing license, my career on the racetrack began. And to be honest, even in those early days, I proved to be no mug, although not at the real front of the field, I was nearer that end than the back. And, of course, being a female did gain me some publicity, not all necessarily favourable. This was something that was viewed as very much a 'man's game' after all. For as my experience increased, so I began to move slowly forwards, until I was actually challenging for race victories.

But I still hadn't achieved one of those when the series moved back to a round at Brands Hatch in early September, one where both Lisa and Jonathan had chosen to attend, to give me their much-appreciated support. And the weather didn't prove to be too kind to them, although it wasn't pouring down with rain, the track surface was most definitely wet, as I lined up on the grid, no qualifying in club racing the grid is set randomly, for my first race of the day.

I'd actually been on the third row when the race started, and made a very good, but totally legal, start to find myself within the leading runners on lap one. And these conditions completely suited my smooth riding style. I was feeling good about this one!

With justifiable reason. By the end of lap two of only four, but then we were using the full circuit today as opposed to just the short circuit, I was in second place, very close to the leader, and having a gap back to the rider behind me. So, I took the next lap to 'study' my opponent, the sections of the circuit where he was stronger, and the ones where I held the advantage. Meaning that when I did strike, at Hawthorns corner, the one at the end of the main straight, he didn't possess such knowledge of my riding that I had of his. And to be honest it was that next section through Westfield, Dingle Dell, Sheene Curve and Stirlings, that was my 'good' part of the circuit, although he was stronger through the final corner, Clearways.

But I had that covered, I'd pulled out a little gap, so that when we reached there, he wasn't close enough to mount an attack. I took the corner well anyway and was back onto the throttle early for the run to the line. Therefore, just as in those selection trials, and that wasn't an 'official' race, I took the Chequered Flag in first place. I wasn't just a racer now; I was a RACE WINNER!

After crossing the line, my opponent fully demonstrated his sportsmanship by pulling alongside me and offering his hand in congratulations, which I accepted equally gracefully. And then I think it fully dawned on him that he'd just been beaten by a girl, remember he hadn't really seen who I was during the race itself! But, if anything it didn't seem to bother him, after all on the track I am another rider, nothing more and nothing less. To me, my female gender just doesn't matter when we're racing.

When I reached the paddock, there was Lisa to greet me, with a smile on her face that was possibly bigger than mine! I couldn't get my helmet off quickly enough to be able to kiss her passionately. Although I had to be careful to balance the bike I was still sitting on! And when she finally did release my lips from hers, she looked me straight into my eyes and announced, "just you wait until I tie you to our bed tonight! By God, am I going to shag you or what?"

Next up to congratulate me was Jonathan, and the young man in his mid-twenties called Neil, who worked for him as a mechanic, whom I personally had built up quite a rapport, and who, at my request, serviced both of the bikes that I rode on the road.

Then it was to the bar at Brands, called the Kentagon, a play on the fact that Brands lies within the English county of Kent, for a celebratory drink, although there was no alcohol for me, I had another race to compete in later. Maybe I could crown, this already successful day, by making it a 'double?' THEN I could enjoy a drink!

Again, by the end of the second lap I was holding second place, although it was a different rider than my battle had been with during the earlier encounter that day. On that third tour, just coming out of Druid's hairpin, my adversary opened his throttle a little too vigorously for the conditions that day, and his rear wheel spun out of control, depositing both him and his bike onto the tarmac, right in front of me. To be honest, even if I'd possessed the riding ability of the great Moto Grand Prix Champions, I would not have been able to avoid his bike as it slid across my path. It was laying side wards by now, and I hit it in such a manner that its fairing acted as a sort of 'ramp.' Meaning both my bike and I rose into the air. Now, of course, what goes up must come down, so they say, and this wasn't a situation that proved to be an exception.

It was my body that landed first, and if that had been the only thing that happened, I'd have been relatively unhurt. I was wearing good quality protective riding gear, leathers, helmet etc. However, the bike I'd been riding also had to come back down to earth, and it chose to do so on top of my body, its weight crushing my organs and turning my world to total darkness immediately.

In the hospital that I'd been taken to, before my damaged heart finally gave way and I passed from this world, it allowed me one final moment of consciousness, during which my final sight on this earth was the teary face of my beloved Lisa. And that was it, I was now completely dead.

*******

Several days later, during Bridget's funeral, one of the first people who greeted the distraught Lisa was Jonathan Wheatcroft, again accompanied by young Neil as he had been at Brands Hatch on the tragic, but also triumphant day. "Lisa, how can I apologise enough. If only I hadn't put her name forward, if I hadn't recommended her this wouldn't have happened."

"Get that thought out of your head right now! Do you think my Bridget didn't know the risks involved when she lined up on that grid? She WANTED to be there; it was what she loved. Can you imagine how much she would have hated it, if you hadn't given her that chance? She'd have never forgiven you, or me probably. It was just the purest of bad luck that took her from us, nothing other than that. And don't forget, she'd also reached the highs that day, before tragedy struck. So, DO NOT blame yourself, remember her as I always will, after she'd won that first race that day. Incidentally, the Racing Club, kindly presented me with the trophy for her victory that day, and it will sit in pride of place upon my mantelpiece until my dying day. THAT is how I want to remember and honour her, although I can't deny that I miss her SO much!"

Then Lisa turned to young Neil. "Now then, young man, to practical matters. I want you, just as I know Bridget would have wanted, to have her F3."

"Lisa," he stuttered in reply, "I'm not sure I can accept it, not in these circumstances."

"Well, that's not an option I'm going to allow you. There's NOBODY more worthy, you became a true friend to her, and I know, as so would she, that you will look after it in the same manner that she would have done. You deserve it, and I know you'll honour her with it. Please accept it, it's entirely appropriate that you should."

"Yes Lisa, put like that, I will." He took one of Lisa's hands, looking her directly into her eyes. "I promise you, with everything that I possess, that I'll look after her in a manner that will do Bridget proud. Please believe me."

"I DO. And that is why I want you to have her."

She turned back to the young man's boss. "As for the Brutale, well as I shared that bike with my beloved, my tribute to her will be to learn how to ride a motorcycle myself and keep it. I know I don't have her talent, either on the road or especially on a racetrack, where I'll never go, but I can drive a car well, so I believe I can ride that too. Do you know any motorcycle training schools that I can attend for that aim?"

"What a lovely idea, Lisa. Yes, I do, let's get this sad day done, and I'll gladly help you in any way I can." With that she kissed him on his cheek and left to 'mingle.'

With the next person that she spoke to being her own sister, Bridget's mother, Helen. Who it must be said had not been delighted in any way, when the relationship between her sister and daughter had commenced. But Helen had come to see the real love between Bridget and Lisa, as her first speech to her sister, after a full and loving cuddle, made clear. "Lisa, please believe me I share your loss. Yes, it was me who did give life to Bridget, but it was most definitely you who brought her to life. In all of her, far too short, numbers of days upon this planet, it was the ones that she spent with you where she sparkled the most. Those were the days when she was most alive, and as her mother, I thank you for that. Can you forgive me for my initial reluctance to accept that? The way I acted then was disgusting."

"Sister, I can understand some of that. I'm sure that being my partner in life wasn't what you'd dreamt of for your daughter. But, of course, I can readily forgive you. After all, if you couldn't accept us being together at first, you grew to be fully able do so. Which we both completely appreciated."

With that the two sisters fell back into a full cuddle, after which Helen kissed Lisa passionately on the lips. Before they separated, an action that both delighted and shocked the younger of the two. Then they too parted.

******

As the months passed since Bridget's funeral, Lisa indeed attended the motorcycle training school that Jonathan had recommended, duly obtaining her full driving license for bikes as well as cars. And it was when she returned from a ride on the Brutale one day, no she didn't ride as early or anything like as fast as Bridget had done, that she found Helen on her doorstep.

"Lisa, Darling sister, please take me to your bed! Ever since that kiss between us I've had you on my mind, I have to know how it feels to be yours!"

"You'd better come in then!"

Fifteen minutes later, Helen finds herself, just wearing stockings and a suspender belt, lying in a spread-eagled fashion, tied securely and totally inescapably to Lisa's bed posts. "Well then sister, it rather seems that you're desperate to be mine. You do know that having submitted to be totally at my mercy, I have no intention of showing you any?" As Lisa, just in sexy lingerie herself, fits her strap-on, making areal show of it.

"I don't want to be shown any. All I DO know is that, for today anyway, I HAVE to be yours!"

"Don't you worry yourself about that, for now you are completely in my hands. Within the full power of my sexuality. It seems, for today at least, a case of,

LIKE MOTHER, LIKE DAUGHTER!