Finally, we were left alone once more as the group tired and the party wound down, around dawn and they wandered off to who knew where. Before she left, Lizzie gave Amanda yet another shot and gave me one as well. The shot left me nearly senseless and the only thing I remember happening prior to my passing out was watching an extremely large black man with an equally large cock screw a very willing Amanda in all her holes before pissing on her face and leaving her lying in the concrete floor. Bronk was filming it all. I lost all sense of time as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I did know that Amanda was no longer in the garage with me, and I think I spent the rest of the time alone. I don't remember if I was fed or given anything to drink, or even if I was doped up again. The next time I awoke, I found myself in the front seat of our car with Amanda beside me. The car clock said it was just after 3a.m., but I had no idea what day. We were both naked and the car was parked on a dirt road. Amanda was still unconscious, but I saw that there was something on her left breast. When I focused and looked, I saw that it was a new and very sore looking tatoo. Beautifully scripted in red and blue and yellow were the words "Prime Slut." As I dressed Amanda in the filthy rags and denim jacket they had left in the car, I saw the second tatoo. It was on the left cheek of my wife's ass and in block letters said "this ass well fucked by the RAMROD M.C." I looked around quickly to see if we were alone and when I realized we were now free I started the car and drove us home, quickly. At home, I managed to help Amanda into the bedroom, and I collapsed beside her on the bed. Thirst and hunger awakened me, but Amanda slept on. When she finally did awaken, she cried for hours. She remembered a lot, and I filled in what I could. She said that after I was drugged, they reduced her dose and she remembered becoming the "property" of the club president for the rest of the time. They had held us captive from Friday afternoon until Thursday morning. Amanda was sore all over, but healed quickly. We talked about it and about trying to forget about it, but I knew I could never forget. We knew where the garage was, but agreed that we couldn't go to the police because of the video Bronk shot of Amanda. It would ruin our careers at the school, where guilt or innocence wasn't the issue, but the image of propriety was. We had great difficulty talking, when we were together. Vacation was tense and we didn't enjoy it at all. We tried to resume our daily routines, but Amanda was tense and restless and irritable. Maybe I was, too. I found that Bourbon relaxed me. Finally, in the Fall, Amanda stayed home from school one day and she was gone when I got home. The following weekend, she showed up sitting behind Otto, on the back of a Harley, dressed like a real biker slut. She quickly packed a small bag, got back on the bike, wrapped her arms around the huge, filthy biker and that was the last I ever saw or heard of her. And, what of Lizzie? Well, soon after the weekend they kidnapped us, she moved back with her Mommy and Daddy, cleaned herself up, became `Elizabeth,' again, went to an Ivy league college and married a Med student. She wore white at a big church wedding last Saturday. I was invited and went to the church, just to see it with my own two eyes. She was beautiful and looked like she had never had a sexy thought in her life...

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