Page 11 of Chains: Unchain My Heart

The bartender gestured to a rugged-looking biker, the only patron not dressed like a cowboy. The biker rose and followed Zaiden out the door.

Picking up his cellphone, the bartender dialed a number. “Delmond. Yeah. Yeah, he just left. Yeah. Paco’s tailing him. Sure.” He ended the call and poured himself a drink.

* * *

Zaiden saton his motorcycle outside the bar, checking Google Maps for the given address. He noticed the other biker stepping out behind him and exchanged a nod with the man. It was refreshing to see someone normal in this small town.

The address led to a place on the edge of town, which seemed more promising. It would be a suitable location for a trader to store her possessions. Now, all Zaiden had to do was get there and persuade her to sell the item to him – if she still had it.

He had received enough warnings about her safety, but if she didn’t have the item or refused to sell it, all bets were off. It was either his life or hers at stake, and he knew the potential consequences.

A cunning criminal, Zaiden knew how to charm women, and con men – aside from inadvertently killing the old meth addict. If Juliette discovered his true intentions, he would be in trouble. But he couldn’t let the item slip away.

Zaiden realized that storming into Juliette’s home and demanding the item would raise suspicion. Instead, he needed to find a way to get close to her and gain her trust. He was confident he could do it, even though they hadn’t met.

Determined to find the key to his freedom, Zaiden resolved to stop at nothing to retrieve it. Unbeknownst to him, his arrival in town would trigger a series of events that would forever change the lives of everyone involved.

6

Juliette’s house stood on a sprawling, two-acre property on the outskirts of town, where the urban landscape began to give way to the serenity of nature. Surrounded by a grove of ancient oak trees, the house appeared to be sheltered by their gnarled branches, casting shadows that seemed to protect it from the madness of the world beyond.

The house itself was a quaint, two-story Victorian structure, with faded white paint and peeling wooden siding that hinted at its age. The once-bright blue trim around the windows had dulled over time, but still held a quiet charm. A wide, wraparound porch adorned the front of the house, providing the perfect vantage point to enjoy the surrounding gardens.

Overgrown flower beds encircled the property, their once-vibrant colors now hidden beneath a tangle of weeds and ivy. The gardens were a reflection of the turmoil within Juliette’s heart, their wild beauty a reminder of the memories she had buried deep within her. A winding stone path led from the front gate to the house, now barely visible beneath the overgrowth.

The interior of the house was a different story altogether. Once a home filled with love and laughter, it had become a prison of clutter and chaos, a result of Juliette’s hoarding tendencies. The rooms were filled from floor to ceiling with stacks of newspapers, boxes of forgotten treasures, and piles of clothing that had long lost their purpose. Cobwebs clung to the corners of the high ceilings, and a thin layer of dust covered most surfaces.

The once-spacious living room was now a maze of piled possessions, with narrow pathways carved between the stacks. A lonely, worn couch, its faded floral fabric barely visible beneath the clutter, stood as a testament to the life Juliette had once known. The once bright and cheerful kitchen had become a storage space for countless trinkets and gadgets, rendering it nearly unusable.

Since her mother’s passing, her acquisitions had predominantly consisted of furniture that echoed an older era, antiques, and items that instilled in her a feeling of affluence.

Despite the clutter and disarray, however, there remained a sense of warmth and comfort within the walls of Juliette’s house. The love and memories that had once filled the rooms still lingered, waiting to be uncovered and brought back to life.

In the midst of the mess, Juliette’s property held a hidden gem. At the rear of the house, just beyond the tangled garden, stood a small, weathered shed. It was here that she kept her most treasured possession: an old, but impeccably maintained motorcycle, a relic from her mother’s adventurous past. The shed was her sanctuary, a place where she could escape from the weight of the world and imagine a life of freedom and adventure beyond her cluttered home.

In contrast to the house, the shed contained only the motorcycle and a few necessities: a small cabinet next to a bed, a full-length mirror, and a cherished framed photo of Juliette and her mother. Drawers under the bed held Juliette’s neatly folded and clean clothes. The shed’s interior was spotless, even the wooden floor beneath the bike.

Just outside the shed’s door, a small shelter housed a barbecue and basin for outdoor cooking and washing. Next to this stood an open-air shower, accompanied by a bathtub equipped with a gas-fired water tank for heating. The shed’s simplicity and cleanliness stood out against the state of the house, offering a peaceful haven for Juliette.

* * *

Juliette ignited the water heater,which quickly warmed the small tank. She stripped off all her clothes and hung them on the line that stretched from the shed to the shelter’s roof. As she turned on the tap, water began to fill the bath slowly. She grabbed a bottle of bubble bath from a nearby box containing her toiletries, pouring it into the water. She watched the water foaming up while the soothing aroma wafted up to her nostrils, then she closed her eyes and breathed in, letting her worries disappear for a while.

She dipped her fingers into the water, testing the temperature. Satisfied, she lowered herself into the bath, allowing the warmth and comfort to envelop her. She rested her head against the edge of the tub, her eyes closed as her mind wandered.

Thoughts of Chains filled her head. He was an enigma to her. Although she had a talent for reading people, which often helped her strike great deals, Chains remained a captivating mystery. She couldn’t help but want to learn more about him, perhaps even get closer. A giggle escaped her lips as she indulged in those thoughts.

A distant dog bark caught her attention, causing her to open her eyes and glance down at her body. The bubble bath foam mostly covered her breasts, but she brushed some away, revealing her hardened nipples just above the water’s surface. She caressed them gently, her thoughts drifting back to Chains once more.

It had been ages since she’d entertained thoughts of another man. Her life had been consumed by her own needs, and she doubted anyone would want her or understand her now. Yet, Chains stirred something within her, awakening emotions she had long since buried.

As she played with her nipples, she arched her back, lifting her upper body slightly while resting her legs along the sides of the bath, bending her knees so that her lower legs remained outside of the water. She shifted slightly upwards until her untrimmed, neglected bush emerged from the water. She crinkled her nose at the sight, thinking that it looked as overgrown as the gardens surrounding her home. She couldn’t help but wonder what Chains would think if he saw it. The thought puzzled her – why was she even bothered about his opinion on such a personal matter?

She let her hand slide down her body and part the forest, finding the wet folds, where she dipped one, then two fingers inside. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the bath once more as she fingered her pussy and rubbed her clit. She stopped to pull at her pubes. It felt good especially when she flicked her hardened nub with the tip of her finger then rubbed it from side to side. But she needed more, so she thrust her fingers deep inside again and pounded her pussy with all she had, wishing it was a big hard cock instead.

She hadn’t pleasured herself for so long she’d forgotten how good it felt. As she quickened the pace, she began to moan in ecstasy until she felt the muscles of her asshole contracting uncontrollably. She pulled her fingers out and rolled her clit firmly in circles with one finger, feeling the contractions become more intense. Finally when she was on the verge, she dipped three fingers inside for a few thrusts before pulling them out suddenly and grabbing a handful of pubes and tearing at them, screaming as a leg-shaking orgasm had the bath rocking and the water spilling over the sides.

“Fuck…” she heard, spoken in a deep voice that lingered, drawn out in a prolonged, awe-struck tone.

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