Tag and Release: Part 1 - Gemma's Capture


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Today is the first day of the rest of Gemma’s life, and she doesn’t even know it yet…

There’s a rumor going around that a man named Tag will answer your prayers, provided your prayers are accompanied by $500 and a letter that explains why you need his particular “service”. He rides a Harley, they say. He’s rich. He’s handsome.

And none of the women who meet him are ever the same.

Gemma’s sister wrote the letter and sent a check to the PO Box associated with the mystery man. And now Tag’s arrived, ready to click the handcuffs around her wrist and sweep her off her feet. He’s got a lot to teach Gemma about her curvy body and her own self-worth.

And maybe, before they’re through, Gemma will teach Tag a thing or two as well…

Tag and Release is an ongoing series. This instalment is more than 8,000 words long, and many of them are graphically depicting sexual activity between a vivacious, curvy woman who doesn’t yet know what her body is really built for and a smoking hot biker who’s made it his mission in life to show women like Gemma just what they’ve been missing. All of the characters are above the age of 18.


“Did my sister cancel?” I asked, ready to be annoyed. Phoebe had already had to knock back two other ladies who were desperate to get in today, and if Heather had taken a spot and then ditched me at the last minute I was going to be more than a little angry with her.

“Not exactly,” Remmy said. “Well, kind of, I suppose.”

“Remmy, you’re going to have to help me out a little more than that, you know…”

“Yes, of course.” He adjusted and readjusted the collar of his crisp linen shirt. Once he had, he looked past me to the mirror by the sink and re-smoothed his hair, regardless of the fact that there hadn’t been a strand out of place.

“What,” I asked, watching him preen like a schoolgirl, “is there some reality TV show about to start shooting out there or something?”

“How do I look?” he asked.

I sighed. Remmy may have been the best boss I’d ever had, but that didn’t mean that we didn’t have to settle his nerves every now and then. He was a handsome man, but our clientele of trophy wives and up-and-coming mail order brides had never gotten him as flustered as this. Even a film crew wouldn’t have made him doubt his appearance. No, it had to be something else.


“Remmy, what is it?”

He waved me to silence once again, still looking at himself in the mirror.

“It’s a hot guy, isn’t it? Is he at the front still? Let me see.”

Remmy snapped out of it as I tried to get past him. “No, no, no. Gemma, stay here for a second. Use the mirror, you need it more than I do, honey.” He didn’t say it out of meanness, and I tried not to take offense.

“What’s going on?”

“Your sister left a message with Phoebe. Don’t get mad at her, though. Apparently Heather was very insistent that she not say anything to you.”

I was starting to get worried. Was Heather okay? The cloak and dagger stuff wasn’t like her, but Remmy looked like he was trying to get me to brace for something, and that was making me incredibly nervous. I pulled out my phone and saw that Heather had already texted me.

Have fun!! :)

I frowned at the screen, and Remmy angled his head so that he could see the message too. “Oh, my word, I think you’re going to definitely have that, Gemma. Dear Lord, yes!”

“Remmy, please tell me what’s going on. Come on, I can’t take it anymore.”

We both heard Phoebe’s voice as she uncharacteristically raised it. Five years of working here and I don’t think I’d ever heard her speak above a sultry ribbon-thin whisper until now. “Back there on the left,” she practically shouted, as Remmy and I looked at each other like we’d just seen a unicorn, so rare was the event.

“Here?” This voice was deep. The bass of it ran through me like a river unleashed, and I felt my stomach make a lazy loop, the Caesar salad getting tossed for the second time today.

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