by Ryder Dane
Baron figured he’d been nice long enough, she got a free pass yesterday, mainly because he had been laughing at Gunner too hard to catch her before she’d left. He walked over to an empty desk, and sat on it. He pulled her down from his shoulder and she let go of his hair, probably thinking he was going to let her go. He held onto her and as soon as she was in the right position, he pushed her down over his lap, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and laid his big hand on her ass in a meaningful way—hard. He began smacking her jean clad ass, and telling her to behave in a stern voice.
“Get over yourself, little girl, I’m not some pussy boy that gives a damn about your sensitive feelings, and if you don’t stop that goddamn screeching, I’ll gag you.” That shut her up, at least for a minute. “You are going to get your happy ass on my bike, and you’re going to stop bitching long enough to see that this is the best plan to keep you safe, and your brother caught. You came to us, remember?” He gave her three more hard smacks for good measure. He had to tell his prick to knock it off, the fucker was waking up in a big way, and he didn’t particularly want to be riding with a hard-on. He let her stand up and headed for the door.
She rubbed her tender butt cheeks, and slowly walked out of the building. Her mind was shifting through her emotions and she was afraid her common sense was going to win this round. She truly had nowhere to go that was safe from David, and if this offer of shelter hadn’t come, she would be a sitting duck at her apartment. There was the incentive of being around so many sexy men, so at least she would have something to keep her busy while she was with them. It could be worse, instead of watching muscular jean clad asses walk by, she could be stuck here, watching the chief’s beer belly expand.
He kicked the motor starter thing, and gave her that narrow eyed look again, so she hiked her leg over the bike and sat behind him. There was nothing to hang on to, and she had no idea where to put her feet either. His arm reached back, grabbed her leg, and guided it to a peg on the side, just above the long shiny exhaust pipes, so she looked down on the other side and set her other foot on that one too. He yelled, “Hang on,” and she had to grab at his waist to keep from falling off the big machine. She gave Chaucer a little hand wave as they passed him sitting on his bike, waiting for them to pass. He might have smiled, but she had to grab on to her anchor so fast she hadn't had a chance to notice.
Twenty minutes later they turned into the driveway of the club. She was so excited that she almost fell on her ass after she pulled her leg over the small patch of leather she’d been sitting on and balanced on her toes. She kept her hand on Baron’s shoulder until she got her bearings and could stand with confidence. “I want one of these, I want to learn how to drive one. What kind of bike should I look for, being a beginner, I know I should start out with a smallish one, but I loved that ride.”
She was grinning at him and he had to smile at her enthusiasm. A few of the old ladies had their own scooters and could give her tips on what the best ones to learn on might be. His first bike had been a 350 Rice grinder. At fourteen, he’d been over six feet tall, and the smaller bikes made him feel like a bear on a tricycle. At sixteen, he’d graduated to his first Triumph 750 Trident, and the wreckage of that one still sat in his pole barn.
“You can ask Vern’s old lady, she rides. Come on, let’s get you situated.”
Melvin was excited to see Amy walk in the door. She was equally happy to see a friendly face, even if it was a furry one with dog breath. In the far corner of the room, a small gathering of women in various degrees of skimpy clothes were giggling and cooing to something small enough to be held in the palms of their hands. She walked closer and saw the tiny orange, black, and brown body of one of the kittens. It couldn’t be very old, unless she was looking at the runt.
Myrtle came up behind her and introduced her to the Bitch Pack. “The one holding the kitten there is Charm, next to her is Hightits. Friendly is the one with the red hair, and the rest are Angel, Lovey, Freddie, and Ducky. Bernie and Henri are shopping right now. They will be back tonight, so you can meet them then. Ladies, this is Amy, she is a guest, not one of the Bitches or round heeled party sluts, so be friendly, she’s not the competition.”
Every one of the women smiled at her except the one Myrtle said was named Hightits. There must be a problem there, she didn’t know what her problem was, and hoped she wouldn’t be here long enough to find out. She’d seen that look before when she had walked in on Arlan and his fuck buddy screwing on her bed while she’d been at work all day. The woman hadn’t lasted more than a few days as far as she knew, but this Hightits could certainly match the other one in dirty looks. The only way to deal with women like them was to ignore them, or beat their asses. Unfortunately, Amy wasn’t confident enough to beat the woman physically, so she chose to ignore her.
Myrtle gave her the nickel tour of the place. “Bathrooms are scattered around, and if you don’t want someone walking in on you, make sure you use the lock on the door. This is the bar where everybody congregates.” They walked through the bar and into another room with tables and chairs. “This is the room where we set up a buffet on the weekends and it’s pretty much grab and go. We don’t do fancy, but the kitchen is through there and it has everything you might need to fix some simple meals if you’re any kind of cook. In the back there are a few rooms for privacy if anyone is feeling the need. The Office is back there, but if you plan to check the single rooms out, don’t make the mistake of coming back here with any of the men. You’ve been warned. You cross the line of this room and the hallway with anyone, don’t come screaming rape later.”
She was left to her own devices when Myrtle got a call on her cell.
Charm and Ducky came racing through the door and Ducky peeked around the doorjamb to make sure they’d escaped whoever was following them. Charm grabbed Amy by the arm and pulled her into the kitchen with Ducky following close behind. They continued out of the building through the backdoor, onto a covered eating area. She hesitated to call it a patio, picnic tables and a huge fuel oil tank that had been cut in half, and had blackened sides, didn’t look like her idea of something as fancy as a patio. An old fridge sat next to the building that Ducky got three beers from, then she brought them, and a bowl of boiled eggs still in the shell to the table Charm had selected for them.
Charm was a busty brunette with huge brown eyes, and an infectious smile. Ducky was a tiny redhead with light golden skin and cinnamon speckles over every inch of her bared skin. They both appeared to be in their mid twenties, and invited her to conspire with them against Gunner.
As Charm said, “He is such a bastard, did you hear that him and Leech have been warning some of the guys that us bitches are trying to trap them into locking down for the next eighteen years. He didn’t bother to tell them that not all of us feel we need to snag one of them anytime soon. I ain’t settling down until one of these motherfuckers proves he’s worth the sacrifice.”
Amy was smiling with the girls, even she felt they’d been falsely accused, “So how am I supposed to help you? I barely know Gunner or Leech.”
Ducky held up a finger for Amy to hold on a moment while she finished swallowing the egg in her mouth. She slugged half a beer down and smiled as she burped. “Oops, sorry for that. You, our new acquaintance, and most bosom of friends, get to interview our prospective old men. We will use you to ask questions while we are entertaining the guys tonight. Things like income, do they have homes, do they like kids. You know, shit like that.”
Charm was sharing her grin with the girls, “You can’t act all prissy either, you gotta be aggressive, ‘cause I can be pretty distracting when I’m giving a guy head. The men figure they’re going to get all the goodies without having to share the wealth for a few weeks. I don’t plan on going without tonight, so you have to ask why they are such selfish lovers, shit like ‘hey, I thought bikers were ‘spossed to be such badass lovers. Not a bunch of selfish pricks.’” She must have seen the look of disbelief on Amy’s face.
“Now you don’t have to stand over us and score our techniques, just sit around the room in different spots, asking questions or making comments. You want to help us right? Even Hightits would be grateful if you agree and we wanted her to know. She has her sights on being an old lady, she wants Gunner and Baron.”
Amy felt a disturbance in her chest. “If she wants them to fight over her, I won’t lift a lip to ask anything on her behalf. I hate it when women try to pit men against each other.” Her companions laughed at her declaration.
“You are gonna be a fun one to have around here. Gunner and Baron like to share, they wouldn’t fight over a woman, they’re pretty famous for wearing a bitch out. We haven’t been the meat in their particular sandwich, or some of the other shit they are known for, kinky shit. Give me a straight up fuck, I can even enjoy taking it in the ass once in a while.” Charm grinned, “I wouldn’t object to peeking in on them while they are doing the kinky shit though.”
“Yeah, from what Caroline used to say about them,” she fanned herself, “they used to do all kinds of shit to her and she loved it. After about a year or so, she kept bitching they weren’t enough, she wanted something more. Can you imagine? I still look at Baron and imagine him fucking her in the cunt and Gunner’s fat prick fucking her ass at the same time. She loved it, she told me that it was something every woman should experience at least once.”
Ducky finished her second egg, and what was left in her bottle of beer, and laughed. “Fuck yeah, I might try it just to say I did. I saw her blowing them off one night and I might be brave enough to try taking one of them, and say, maybe Skids. I’d be worried they would split me open like a peach.”
Amy wondered if she was being hazed, like college or something. They led her into a doublewide trailer about a hundred feet from the backdoor. She fell asleep on the sofa while the ladies got ready for the evening. She never heard Angel and Freddie walk in the door.
An argument over someone’s red heels woke her from a deep sleep. She sat up and ran her hands through her curly hair. “I’m sorry, I must have passed out, sleeping at the police station was not the easiest thing in the world to do. The officer offered to let me sleep in a cell, but for some reason that seemed as if I was the bad guy, and I was the one in the right.”
Angel sat in the chair opposite where she was sitting and questions started coming her way. “What’s your story anyway? We don’t get visitors like you here you know. Did you have to do the splits when you rode with Baron on his hog? Caroline always said she had to practically do them just to get her legs on the pegs. Are you replacing Caroline? I gotta tell you, Hightits ain’t gonna like that at all. Can you cook? It would be great if we had another bitch that could cook here. Bernie does most of the cooking, but goulash is getting old after two years.”
Amy blinked at her. Was she high? How could anyone talk that fast and be understood. Geez, she tried to answer the questions in order, but couldn’t remember them all.
“Hi, um, my brother was one of the Prospects for the club here. He hooked up with a guy that was so bad even your club tossed him out on his ass. I refused to give him money, his buddy wanted to have sex with me and their other nasty little friend, they vandalized my car, burned down my business, and have threatened my life.
“As for the other stuff, no I didn’t have to do the splits, I was a gymnast in school, I would know if I had to do those. Ah, uh, no I am not a replacement, or substitute for anyone. Yes, I can cook, not fancy stuff, I can make other things than goulash, but I like goulash, and since I haven’t eaten since sometime last night, I could eat a damned cow right now. I haven’t had a shower since, hmm, maybe night before last? I didn’t get a chance to even grab a change of clothes.” She yawned again and saw that she had all four women starring at her. “What?”
Forty-five minutes later she stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door and was surprised the woman staring back at her looked young, carefree and dare she say—sexy? She wore a belly baring half t-shirt with the hemline tucked under the shelf bra’s band. The neckline of the shirt was gone and split in a deep v down her chest. She wasn’t exactly flat chested to begin with, and the bra and shirt made her breasts look much larger. The excuse for shorts let the bottom cheeks of her ass flash as she flexed her legs, and rode so low on her hipbones that she was afraid they would fall off her ass if she moved too much.
This is one time you can be thankful for your wide ass, thank you, Grandma Selters. Her feet were covered in leather half boots that made the outfit complete. Freddie did her make-up and gave her smoky smudged eyes. Her lips had a natural pout to begin with, now that they were outlined in a dark cherry lip stain, she wanted to blow everyone in the place a kiss. Ducky tried to tame her mop of curls, but the spirals resisted her efforts, and they gave up on the idea.
Charm grinned when she saw her. “Oh boy, Ol’ Hightits is gonna be pissy tonight. You clean up good, Amy.”
Chapter Six
She thanked them all and did a clumsy curtsey, “Thank you, Fairy Godmothers.” The women made their way back to the club. The kitchen was a disaster. Someone had dumped bags of chips and other junk food. There were three empty pizza boxes, two large take out buckets with nothing but bones and grease left inside.
Amy could have cried. She was so hungry she was ready to snatch one of the potato chip bags and run to a corner.
The door opened before they got to it, to walk out of the room, and two Prospects and Baron walked in carrying more pizza and another bucket of chicken. Preacher came in behind him with a large cardboard box filled with lettuce leaves and cherry tomatoes. Other men and women brought bowls and bags with some form of edibles. Chaucer and Jake brought in beat up tin foil pans filled with grilled corn and unidentifiable chunks of meat that he had roasted over coals. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.
She stood back, not knowing the pecking order when it came to who ate when around here. She knew she must be drooling but when the horde of hungry club members left the room with paper plates filled with food, she stepped up to get a plate for herself. It appeared that Baron had forgotten his guest as soon as he’d dropped her with Myrtle today. She got the plate, but couldn’t find a single utensil, walked along the table and was shocked to see that all remaining food needed a spoon or fork to eat it with. She hated coleslaw, and there was a half of a bowl sitting there. The two cherry tomatoes that were left didn’t begin to fill the ache in her stomach. Even the pizza had been snatched down to a couple of stray pepperonis.
She walked into the meeting/dining room and didn’t see Baron, so she went into the lounge. He was sitting with a plate heaped with food on the table in front of him, and talking to Gunner and a young couple. The woman was obviously pregnant, and her old man sat close beside her.
She wove her way to the plate of food she’d zeroed in on, and when she was within reach, snagged a chicken leg from Baron’s stash. He turned his head and frowned at her, but she gave him the same look he’d given her earlier, before she sank her teeth into the tender meat. She watched him watching her devour the small piece of meat, she tossed the bone next to his plate and swiped a slice of pizza next. When she straightened up and looked at him, she nodded her thanks and bit into the gooey cheesy treat. She turned away to go to the bar and ask for a cola to wash her stolen dinner down. Someone laughed behind her, but let them, she’d finally gotten something to soothe her stomach’s demands.
Freddie was standing at the bar watching her approach and grinned. “I thought you were puttin’ us on when you said you were a gymnast, but the way you move proves that you can balance really good in those fuck-me heels. Can you work a pole?”
Amy asked for a beer instead of a cola, she didn’t want to act differently than the rest of the women in the room, and from what she could see, most of them were drinking beer or wine coolers. Only a few were drinking sodas. She took a couple of long pulls on the bottle and handed it to Freddie, “Let’s see if
I remember how it’s done.” Angel was working on the pole on the left, and the music had just gone from a banging discordant sound, to something that made a woman’s inner slut want to move her hips to the beat. She wasn’t sure if it was the outfit, the music, or the challenge that made her grab the shining chrome steel pole and swing around it. She grinned at Angel and they synced the movements of their hips for a few beats, then she began playing with the pole. She held onto the pole, moving to the beat of the music for the duration of the song without her heels touching the floor, until the last note. Her right leg was up along the pole, and her left leg was supporting her weight, in a standing split. She and Angel grinned as they finished their workout and Freddie laughed with them as they hopped off the miniscule platforms. She was clapping and fanning herself with her hand, telling them how hot that had been to watch.
“I fuckin’ swear to Yani, that was so damned hot I wanted to join you girls, and I don’t mean dancing on those metal poles. I know Angel works out with one for exercise, but that wasn’t what you were doing on that thing.”
Amy was feeling the adrenalin still coursing through her veins from her working the pole, it had been years since she touched one. She laughed. “You know how you girls were making fun of the way I talk? I was raised by very proper southern grandparents. I also went to college, and they didn’t have the money to send me there. I told them I got grants and scholarships to pay the tuition, but the truth was, I worked a pole in a strip club downtown for four years. I got my degree, and quit dancing, but at least I didn’t have any big loans to pay for when I graduated.”
