Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6

by Manda Mellett

  I’ve never played with ginger before. I can imagine the effects, but have never witnessed it. Something tells me I’m going to enjoy this.

  Mace wets the ginger thoroughly with cold water from the bathroom sink.

  “No lube?”

  “No,” he replies to me. “Lube is oily and will block the effect.” With an evil chuckle he adds, “And we want them to get the most from the experience, don’t we?”

  The girls both continue protesting as he and I approach. I’ve played with butt plugs before, so treat this the same. With my fingers, I carefully expose Titsy’s rosebud, then, to her objections, start pushing my finger of ginger in. When she clenches, I slap her ass, and she relents.

  She sighs a little when it’s seated.

  “There, that’s not too bad, is it?” asks Mace with a knowing wink in my direction. “Liz, come wash your hands. You do not want ginger in your eyes.”

  Heaven forbid. I follow him and stand by his side at the sink. “How long?” I ask him quietly.

  “Not long at all.”

  “Oooh. Ow. Oh, take it out.” Breezy’s voice starts sounding from behind me.

  “Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow!” shouts Titsy.

  Mace is chuckling. “There we go.” He walks back into the bedroom and slaps Breezy’s ass.

  “Ow! Asshole! Motherfucker!” She screeches as she automatically clenches her butt cheeks then releases them when it tightens her anus on that ginger.

  Of course, I have to try the same thing. At Titsy’s loud protest, I begin to hope brothers in the adjacent rooms have ear plugs.

  Both girls now start to writhe. “Fuck me, for fuck’s sake,” yells Breezy.

  “There we go,” says Mace. “Makes them feel fuckin’ horny. You ready to oblige, Brother?”

  Too right I am. Jeans and boots are quickly off and condoms are on.

  My cock must increase the sensations. Titsy’s, well, I’m not quite sure whether she’s trying to get me off, or trying to dislodge the ginger, but she’s soon clamping around my cock, coming and coming. I hold off, thinking of everything but the pressure on my dick, practiced at prolonging this.

  I hammer and thrust using my hands to push her buttocks together or slap her, making her jump. She’s pushing back against me, coming and then again, until her orgasms are almost continuous. Seems the ginger is really doing its stuff. I’m determined not to blow my load before Mace, but I can’t hold off. The way Titsy’s using my cock is just too much, and that final squeeze… well, I’m a goner.

  I’m pleased to see Mace isn’t far behind me.

  Both girls have now collapsed onto the bed, both groaning and sated, but no longer complaining.

  “It’s worn off,” Mace tells me, grinning.

  Well, that was an experience. We get the girls untied and unfigged, then turn them over. My cock is ready for another round, and Titsy’s still got more in her.

  “You want my ass?” she says, impudently.

  I growl against her ear. “Not fuckin’ likely.” I don’t want to burn and risk my dick falling off.

  In the end, I come three times before the girls shuffle unsteadily out of Mace’s room. Picking up my jeans, boots and cut, I follow them out, closing the door behind me, unconcerned my dick’s swinging free as I walk to my room. I shower, go to bed and fall into a dreamless sleep.

  Exhausted, I’m lost to the world, only woken when my phone pings the chimes of the morning alarm. I shut it down, roll onto my back and again close my eyes.

  My lips move as I mouth, I’m Lizard, otherwise known as Norton James. I ride with the Satan’s Devils MC and have done for the past ten years. I’m thirty-eight years old, and my birthday is… my birthday is the tenth of January. The current President of the United States is… well, who can forget that name? I’m a tattoo artist and I run Devil’s Ink on behalf of my brothers. I’ve no ties, no family and that’s the way I intend to stay.

  Today is going to be a good day.

  Chapter Three

  Vanna

  “Hey, bitch, what’s up?” Lindy opens her door with her normal greeting, then her face falls when she catches sight of my reddened swollen eyes and blotchy complexion. “Wine. And chocolate. Or vodka. Does this call for the strong shit?”

  And this is exactly why she’s my best friend. As she steps back, I take her unspoken invitation and walk forward into her apartment.

  “I take it he’s being an ass again?”

  “Oh, Lindy.” Shaking my head, I try to get out the words. “It’s worse.”

  “Okay. So he’s progressed from ass to asshole. Come on. I’ll get the shot glasses.”

  “Coffee,” I correct. “I can’t afford to…”

  Another look at me, then she tugs at my hand. “Come on, sit down. Tell Auntie Lindy everything.”

  As I take a seat on her comfortable sofa after kicking off my shoes, I hear her filling a kettle, then cupboards opening and shutting. Soon she’s approaching me with a tin of candy in her hands.

  “English chocolate. The best kind,” she announces. “An English friend of mine sent them.”

  “You know I love your friend, right?”

  “I do. And I’ve told her.” She laughs and pushes the bar of milk chocolate toward me, knowing that’s my favourite.

  It’s a sign of how bad I’m feeling that I don’t refuse, even knowing that’s the one she likes best too. But like the good friend that she is, she picks up a Milky Way and starts munching that instead.

  “Spill. What’s happened now?” she asks, licking chocolate off her fingers.

  “Hotwiring a car. Driving it away. Rolling it into a ditch.” I list my son’s misdemeanours. “The police are involved.”

  “Fuck.” Her eyes widen. “Is he going to have to do time?”

  I blow out a breath, the strand of hair that’s fallen over my face lifting with it. “I’m hoping for probation, but it’s only a matter of when, not if, before he goes down.” This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into trouble, and I know it won’t be the last.

  “Being caught might knock some sense into him,” she contradicts. “Having to face up to what he’s done might do him some good.”

  But I know my son. “He’ll meet others inside, even in juvie. He’ll either be hurt or will get into a gang for when he comes out.” As she goes to speak again, I wave her down. “I’ve got a lawyer, fuck knows I can’t afford it, but I wasn’t going to leave it to the public defender. She intimated if he’s not put away, they might look at his home situation and put him into a foster home if they think I’m an inadequate mother.”

  “Oh, Vanna.” Her hand reaches over and covers mine. “You’ve done everything you can for that boy. You’ve lived for him, given your soul for him. You’re the best mom in the world. A lot of moms don’t do half of what you’ve done. You’ve been to every football game he’s played in, stood on the sidelines in freezing snow. You’ve been there for him, helping him with school.”

  “It hasn’t worked though, has it, Lindy? I could never make up for his father not being around.”

  “Hang on. Let me get that coffee.” She gets up, walks off, and returns shortly after, carrying two cups and puts them down. Mine is white with two sugars, just as I like it.

  She blows on hers to cool it, takes a sip too soon and winces, then places it on the table. “Lots of kids are brought up with only one parent, Vanna.”

  “And they do alright,” I finish for her. “Perhaps it’s me. I’ve tried my best, but as it turns out, that’s not good enough. Nothing I’ve done has worked.”

  “Where is he now? School?”

  My head moves up then down. “Yes. I’m picking him up. He’s not allowed to go anywhere else. I want him under my eye.”

  “So that’s why you’re not drinking?”

  “First, I’m driving, so yeah. And second…”

  She grimaces, understanding what I’ve not yet said. “You’re giving no one any more ammunition.”

  Exactly. I place
my own coffee on the table and lean my head back against the sofa. Castiel, Cas as he’s known, is my fourteen-year-old wayward son. He gets into trouble more than he’s out of it. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a man who can help me keep him in line, or maybe I should just acknowledge the truth of it. When things went bad, they affected my son.

  “He still has nightmares, Lindy.”

  “Still?” Her eyebrows arch. “The same ones?”

  “About his father leaving and denying him?” My lips press together. “I don’t know, but he shouts out at night.”

  “It’s been ten years, Vanna. Surely he can’t remember what happened that long ago? He was only four.”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe it’s down to me not handling it properly. I’ve tried to explain to him, but he’s never been able to understand. Maybe if I’d told him his father was dead, it would be easier for him to accept.”

  “It’s not down to you, Vanna. You always expected him to come back, it’s just that he never did. You never wanted to close the door and kept it open.”

  She’s right. I did. I never stopped hoping. “What am I to do?” Sitting forward, I put my head in my hands, rubbing my eyes then drawing my fingers down my cheeks. “Cas is going through his teenage angst, and all this just adds to it. I can’t remember him ever being a happy little boy, despite everything I tried to do. I don’t know what’s going to happen to him, but something has to change. We can’t go on like this. Lindy, I’m scared I’m going to lose him.” To jail, to a gang, or to a foster home. “What am I to do?” I repeat.

  “Get married again.”

  I hold up my hand with my wedding band still on my third finger of my left hand. “I still am.”

  But that doesn’t put a dent in her stride. “Divorce his ass and take him to the cleaners while you’re at it. You’ve never asked for a penny, have you?”

  I haven’t. That’s down partly to pride, but also for the sake of the man I promised to love forever. It’s meant I’ve been a working mom and Cas a latch-key kid when he was old enough to be left on his own.

  “I don’t want another man,” I tell her, my mouth quirking slightly. “I can’t get involved with someone just so he’d be a good influence on my son.”

  “You can’t go through life moping after a man who doesn’t want you, Vanna.” Lindy picks up her coffee and starts drinking now that it’s cooled. “What are you going to do when Cas is grown and moved away? He’s going to one day, you know?”

  “For now, he needs me. He’s only got one parent. I’ve got to be there for him. How would I have time to go on dates anyway, and I’d need to, to meet a man? It’s not like I can pop one into my basket at Walmart.” After all this time, I might entertain the idea if it was that easy. I’ve been on my own for far too long. Sex I can probably take or leave as long as I have my trusty vibrator and a few inspirational books on the side, but it’s the comfort of someone else being there, someone to share all the joys and tribulations that I feel I’m missing out on. But Cas would see that as another betrayal, and he’s had far too much of that already in his short life. He needs me, whether or not he wants to. I know him too well. He’d be suspicious if I brought home a man, and would probably rebel even more.

  Lindy’s staring into her cup as if trying to find the answer there. “Why don’t you let his father have him for a while?”

  “You know why not. That’s an impossible idea.”

  “Is it? How long since you’ve seen him? Since you’ve spoken with him? Maybe everything’s changed now.”

  Maybe it has. But it wouldn’t be for the better. If it were, he’d already be here. I frown. “If it’s changed, then why hasn’t he been in touch? No, he’s moved on as he said he would. He wants nothing to do with me or our son.”

  Perhaps I should divorce his ass as Lindy had suggested. After all these years, desertion would be easy to prove.

  I glance up at her clock on the wall, drain my coffee and stand. “I better run now if I’m going to catch Cas when he comes out of school.”

  “If you’re not by the door, he’ll take off.” She knows me, and him, only too well. “Look, why don’t you bring him over at the weekend. We’ll do something, I don’t know, the zoo?”

  I roll my eyes. “Zoos are long in his rearview, Lindy, though I wish they weren’t. Stock car racing or motorbikes are now far more his style.”

  “Have you thought about that? Getting him into driving lessons or something after school? If the kid’s got an interest in something, it may just focus his mind.”

  It’s a good idea and I’ll see what’s available. My husband might not have had a hand in raising my son, but he’s turned out to be a motorhead just the same.

  I do feel better for coming here and speaking to my friend who knows my whole story and who offers support without judgement, or, not too much of it anyway. I’d had to cut my own mom out of my life when she couldn’t understand what had happened, and why I was left to raise my child alone. Her outpourings when Cas was around hadn’t helped him adjust, and his repetitions of Gramma said would undo all the progress I thought I’d made. Of course, her absence hadn’t helped either. She was just another person who seemed to have abandoned my son.

  Christ, what a mess I’ve made of life for me and Cas.

  I hug Lindy and thank her, then drive to the school where I park well in time to collect my boy. As predicted, his face falls, and he grows sullen when he sees me waiting.

  “You didn’t have to collect me, Mom. I could have caught the bus. Surely you’re supposed to be at work?”

  “I took a personal day. I had to go and see your lawyer,” I explain.

  “Well, fuck me. It’s my fault. I never expected that.”

  I don’t know what gets to me most, him swearing, or his sarcasm. But it reminds me what a failure as a mother I am. I try to bite my tongue, but I fail. “Yes it is your fault. No one else persuaded you to hotwire a car and steal it.”

  “I hate you, Mom.”

  Sometimes I fear he really does.

  “I need to get some groceries.” I wait for the explosion that’s surely to come.

  “And you couldn’t fucking do that before picking me up? Dammit, Mom. Drop me at home first.”

  I’m not stupid. If I do that, he’ll be gone by the time I get home.

  Pick my battles, I remind myself. What would seem bad for anyone else is par for the course between me and Cas. I have to tread carefully or else I risk him storming off, not returning, and becoming just one more statistic. So I smother my temper. “No, you can come and help choose what we’ll have for dinner. After, we can get ice cream.”

  “Ice cream?” He turns to me with a scowl. “I’m fourteen, not four. Anyway, I’ve got plans. There’s a girl I was going to see later.”

  Girl? Christ. This day just goes from bad to worse. Of course I’ve had the chat with my son, the one he should have had with his father. But I’m not sure how effective it was. My fourteen-year-old boy is tall, six feet even now, and even though I’m seeing him through biased eyes, know he’s a handsome fella. Apart from the trouble with the law, I’ve visions of him getting an underage girl pregnant.

  “You are grounded, Son. Remember?”

  I swear I hear him say, we’ll see about that.

  It’s at times like these when I really do wish I had the support of a man.

  Lindy had reminded me I had one. Would things be different if I stepped up and went to see how the land lay now? Could, as she’d suggested, things have changed? Would he now be prepared to step up and accept his responsibilities?

  How much would it hurt to try?

  I’d broken once when the only man I’ve ever loved walked out of my life, but managed to pull myself back to some semblance of stability. Seeing him again might send me back into the depths of despair. Could I take that hurt again?

  Just one more look at the sullen boy sitting beside me and I know, for his sake, I have to try.

  Chap
ter Four

  Mace

  “How’s the ass?” I wink as I ask Titsy when I bump into her in the kitchen. Her mock glare makes me grin.

  “Hey, Mace. Wanna have some fun later?” Breezy seems up for more.

  Well she is until I call out, “Jeannie? You got any ginger root around here?”

  “No ginger,” says Breezy firmly. “Unless it’s going up your asshole.”

  I nearly spit out my mouthful of coffee at her suggestion. Then I notice the time. “Later, girls. Got places to be.”

  That place is Devil’s Ink where I’m going to take a look at the girl who wants her property tat removed. Something has gotten the normally unflappable Lizard spooked about it, which was the reason I’d offered to help check her out.

  So far, we knew Cad hadn’t managed to locate a member of an MC that goes by the name of Major. Well, he’d found one, but on checking, that man was as single as me. Of course, motorcycle clubs don’t have the monopoly on property patches, some BDSM folks are into that shit too, but it was a good idea to check. Don’t want to give a rival club the opportunity to come in guns blazing, accusing us of stealing their women away.

  It’s a nice spring day as I ride the short distance to the strip mall where the tattoo shop is located. The feeling of warm sun on my face has put me in a good mood, I realise, as I roll the bike into a spot reserved for us to the rear, then walk in the back entrance and make my way to the front.

  I greet Vi who’s sitting behind the reception desk. “Hi, Vi. How’s Theo?”

  She rolls her eyes. “My little man is fine. In fact, he was right as rain by the time we got in to see the doctor. Still, she checked him out and said he’s all good. Just one of those kid things.”

  Nodding sagely as if I know what she’s talking about when I don’t have a clue, I glance around. “The boss here?”