Home...sort of.

Vicky was estatic and jumpped uo and down with glee, clapping her hands and squeeling as the previous owner came back with key's in hand. "Now treat him right. Keep ol' Hellrazor full and ease on the throttle. No driftin' and be sure to wash him down omce a week, twice if he's been a good boy," said the biker woman before she dropped the carved metal into Vicky's open palm. The shine of the hell themed key and ring was ominous, but Vicky was too entramced by the allure of her new hog.

She waited with an outstrecthed hand calling for the money to complete the transaction and the girl quickly fished out the $500 asking price. With the money in hand, the woman's turned red and began to glow briefly before returning to a dull brown. Vicky couldn't wait any longer and hopped on and slowly slid the key into the ignition. With a turn the engine roared and dlames sput out the back. Her jaw dropped and a pleased "Woah," escaped her lips while the bike hummed between her legs.

"Sweetie, the helmet is in the bag on the side, don't forget to put it on at least once in a while. Can't have you dying on us," said the woman as she returned to her garage and left Vick alone with the bike. Vicky was sure this badass machine would **** her dad to let her in the gang by its sheer coolness. Her heads shook as she reached for the handlebars and eased the throttle to let out another roar. A grin worked its way up her cheeks and she kicked this baby in gear, setting off for the road home.

With blinding speed, she was off and whiping through suburbia and tearing up the curbs. She screamed and shouted from the excitement and made sure everyone knew about her brand new bike. Vicky was unaware of the price this ride came at and her clothes started to come off one by one in a mild burst of flames.

Her orginal attire had been an everyday outfit which she wore only because the owner returned her call unexpectedly. It consisted of a light sweater, tight jeans, leather boots, sunglasses, and underwear. As she flew by, the sweater caught fire first and slowly burned up stitch by stitch until her bra was the only thing keeping her tits out of the wind. Next to go were the jeans which burned at the bottom of each leg and made a line up to the thigh before completely destroying both pantlegs.

Now the bike was almost at Vicky's and its work wasnt done quite yet, so it pushed on past her place. Vicky was shocked when she tired to slow down and roll into her driveway only speed on by. The bike resumed its work and started burning away the jean shorts it created until it was nothing by a fly and buttons that fell away to the road below. If the bike could cackle, it woukd as it slowed down and pulled up to the side of the street.

Vicky frowned at the bike as questions rattled in her head about why the bike wouldn't stop. But she soon realised that she was in a state of undress when she stood up and heard the clang of her belt as it hit the pavement. She stod there in her lime green panties and bra with her leather belt at the ankles of her boots. The girl instinctevly covered herself with her hands on her shoulders and knees together.

Her eyes looked about frantically for bystanders only to find none of them had seen her yet. Also, she ended up at the park not too far from her house and the distance to her wardrobe gave Vicky some releif. She took action and hid behind a nearby tree to avoid detection and come up with a plan. She couldn't ride back as the noise would call attention and she was thankful that engine died down before she got here. But, if she snuck back to her place, her bike would attract attention and could potentally be stolen. The only option was to find some way to cover herself and walk her bike home where she could put on her clothes and figure out what happened.