Sons of Hellfire: Origins

by Flask, Fiona

  Sons of Hellfire: Origins

  By Fiona Flask

  Copyright 2014 Fiona Flask

  Fiona Flask loves sex, and writing about sex. She's 28, with a degree in creative writing, and her dream is to travel the world. For questions, suggestions, and more, email Fiona at fionaflask@gmail.com.

  Visit me on Tumblr: http://FionaFlask.tumblr.com

  Also By Fiona Flask:

  Sons of Hellfire: Initiation

  Sons of Hellfire: Rivalries

  Cum Inside: A Fellatrix's Journey

  ANAL

  Learning to Submit: Coed Dorm BDSM

  I Need Release: Erotic Massage Therapy: Tantric Yoni Massage

  Making Him Explode: Erotic Massage Therapy

  The Billionaire or The Cowboy: The COMPLETE Saga (BBW, dom/sub BDSM, erotic romance)

  The Billionaire Sorcerer Part 1 (BBW, BDSM play, paranormal, billionaire erotic romance)

  Beta Male To Alpha Wolf: Breeding For The Pack (Werewolf, Erotic, BBW)

  Hot BDSM Seven Book Super Bundle (The Orgasm Collection + The Complete Billionaire or Cowboy Saga)

  Visit Amazon's Fiona Flask Page For More Titles

  This is a short prequel / introduction to the Sons of Hellfire series of serialized stories.

  Sons of Hellfire: Origins is followed by

  Sons of Hellfire: Initiation

  and

  Sons of Hellfire: Rivalries

  Everyone in town knew the Sons of Hellfire MC. They were impossible to miss, rolling down the main drag with their well-worn leather jackets and vests emblazoned with their fiery sigil. The sight of them always made my heart speed up and my face flush. Something about the MC excited me. The danger, the leather, the look of them on their powerful machines. Men and women rode among them, but I never thought I could be one of them.

  I had heard whispers about what their initiations involved. Sex with the whole MC, I'd heard... And these whispered rumours also made my heart speed up. Made my cheeks flush.

  So when I saw a group of Sons of Hellfire members at the Silver Spoon, I felt both scared and intrigued at once. They were both alluring and frightening to me.

  The three leather-clad men stood at the bar, knocking back beers and clapping each other on the back, clearing having a hell of a time. There was one with a thick, wiry, brown beard and short hair. Another with slick blonde hair and blue eyes. The third was a skinny, rat-like man with a goatee. My eyes kept darting to the bearded man. I'm a sucker for beards.

  I tried to keep my attention on my girlfriends, Rachel and Karen, who I was drinking with. Vodka and ginger, whiskey sours, and tequila shots flowed, leaving me unsteady on my feet. I kept shooting looks over my shoulder toward the MC guys at the bar every few minutes.

  "Who are you looking at?!" Rachel said finally.

  "What?" I said, in a fuzzy voice.

  "You keep looking over your shoulder. Is it those biker guys?" Rachel asked.

  "What biker guys?" Karen chimes in, standing on tiptoe to look over my head.

  I put my hand on Karen's noggin and shove her back down, hissing, "Don't!"

  "Why?" said Rachel. "They haven't noticed you staring, why would they notice Karen?"

  "I haven't been staring," I said, blushing.

  "Which one do you like?" Rachel asks, elbowing me and peering at them.

  "Ew," said Karen, finally get a look. "They're all dirty. Look at that ugly, skinny fucker."

  I turned to look at the ugly, skinny fucker and decided he didn't look all that ugly or dirty. But Karen's always been more into v-neck sweater-types. My eyes went back to the bearded one. And in that moment, the bearded guy's eyes made contact with mine. I quickly looked away, hoping he didn't notice.

  "Hey, those guys are all looking over here," said Rachel.

  "Shit," I said.

  "The blond one is approaching," said Karen.

  "Fuck," I said.

  "Hi," said a man's deep voice behind me.

  I turned around and smiled. "Oh, hi!" I looked into the blue-eyed biker standing before me. He was smiling, too.

  "Want a drink?" he asked, ignoring the full drink in my hands.

  "Uh, sure."

  "Come on," he said, grabbing me by the elbow and leading me away from Karen and Rachel. I looked back at them and mouthed, "It's fine."

  The man didn't bring me over to his friends, but instead to the opposite end of the bar. He leaned over to the bartender, smiling, and ordered two beers. His manner was self-assured. He put the bottle of beer in my hand and maintained eye contact as he took a swig.

  "What's your name?" he asked.

  "Eve," I told him.

  "My name's JT," he said.

  I nodded. "Nice to meet you."

  "I noticed you looking over at me," he said.

  "Oh," I said. I decided not to mention I was looking at his friend.

  "Those are my buddies from out of town. You've heard of the Sons of Hellfire?"

  I nodded.

  "All good things, I hope?" he said.

  I nodded again.

  "They're from another chapter," he said, gesturing back toward his friends. "Just passing through, you know."

  "You're in the chapter here in town?"

  "You know it," he said. "So what's your story?"

  I took a breath. "I don't know. I work retail. I'm just out with some girls from work."

  He leaned in closer to me. "That's not your story. What do you like? What do you like to do?"

  "I like to... dance. I like to read. Movies..."

  "I like to go fast," he said. "Do you like to go fast?"

  My heart certainly liked to go fast. I bit my lip. "Yeah," I said. JT's blue eyes pierced me. I felt my body tingle.

  "Good," he said. "My Harley's outside." He downed the rest of his beer and took me by the hand.

  Fuck it. I followed and waved goodbye to my friends at the door.

  Outside, he tossed me his helmet and straddled his motorcycle. I had a brief stab of fear. I didn't know this guy at all. He seemed nice enough, but what if... I don't know. He could bring me anywhere and do anything to me...

  He looked back at me standing there hesitating. "You OK?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Then climb on the fuckin' bike!"

  I put on the helmet and got on behind him, grabbing him around his muscular midsection. The Harley roared to life and we flew forward and out of the gravel parking lot, kicking up dust. Road signs whipped by high speed. I clung tighter to JT, amazed by the speed. I'd never been on a motorcycle before. The wind was cold on my bare legs.

  Soon, the rumbling of the wheel meeting the road was vibrating through me. Hitting me right between the legs, sending electrical tingles through my pussy. I clenched my teeth and moaned. I didn't think JT could hear me over the wind and the engine. My cunt was soon soaking through my panties.

  I had no idea where he was taking me. We rode for ten minutes in the darkness of the highway and finally he came to an exit and got off the highway, slowing down.

  "Let's have a few drinks at the Cellar. It's free to drink there and it'll be empty tonight," JT said. He drove past tall fences into a big parking lot. There was a dark building ahead of us. The Cellar.

  We dismounted and he led me inside. He clicked on a few lights and the room was illuminated. Pool tables, a juke box, a bar, couches, chairs, stools. Framed mugshots on the wall. A big flag emblazoned with the Sons of Hellfire sigil.

  "Beer or whiskey?" JT asked.

  "Whiskey," I said.

  "That's my kind of woman. I can tell we're going to be very good friends." He poured me out a glass of whiskey and passed it over to me. He poured himself a glass and downed it quickly. I drank mine in
four gulps. "So," he said, eyeing me hungrily. "How'd you like the ride?"

  "I loved it. And it's a nice place you've got here."

  "Thanks. So how'd you feel about another ride? A different kind of ride?"

  "I think I'd need to see what you mean by that before I agree."

  JT came up close to me. Close enough to breath me in. He leaned down and our lips met. His coarse stubble scratched my chin as his soft tongue entered my mouth roughly. His arm around my middle pulled me in close. My breasts pressed against his muscular chest. I felt like I was floating.

  He lifted me up into his arms and we were moving across the room. I felt myself being sat on a table of some kind. My hands reached behind and landed on felt. The pool table. And then I was lying on my back with JT on top of me. His fingers fumbled up inside my shirt and tweaked my stiff nipples. I moaned into his relentless mouth. I could feel his hard cock staining against his thick denim. I reached down to release him from his constraints. He tugged my wet panties off me and pushed my skirt up. The head of his cock met my slit.

  "You're wet, aren't you, Eve?"

  "Yes," I whispered.

  "That's my girl," he said, as he entered me. "You like to have a nice hard cock inside you, don't you?"

  I gasped and nodded as his prick filled me up, my pussy stretched around his thickness. He started thrusting, moving easily in and out of my wet cunt. My moans filled the air as he slammed me into the pool table's green felt. I could hear the balls clacking into the each other. I could hear my own wetness, and the slapping sound of JT's balls on my ass. JT's grunts were in my ear.

  I grabbed him by the leather vest and tugged him closer, so I could feel his scratchy face on my neck, and feel his breath. The smell of leather filled my nostrils and my mind swam. I loved that smell. And JT's skin. His musk. His aroma sent electricity through my body.

  JT withdrew from my pussy suddenly and roughly turned me over. "On all fours, bitch," he said, gruffly.

  This stopped everything. Bitch? He can't call me that on a one night stand. I suddenly realized he saw me as a random floozy to nail and discard. If I wanted this to continue, I'd need to make him see me differently. If he wants a biker bitch, he better be prepared to really make me his bitch. I turned back around to face him. "I'm no one's bitch," I said, hopping off the pool table.

  JT watched me, eyes wide.

  "That's what they're called, right?" I pointed to the mug shots on the wall. Some of them were of women.

  "No," said JT. "They're called old ladies. And I hate to tell you this, Eve, but you rode bitch on my bike all the way from the Spoon to the Cellar. That's the dictionary definition of bitch."

  "Well, asshole, if you want to call me bitch, you're going to have to get to know me better."

  JT stared at me for several long seconds. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "My God, you're a real firecracker. Fine, fine, you're nobody's bitch. You want to fuck or what? I'm losing my hard-on, here."

  I smirked and took his cock in my hand, squeezing it tightly in my fist. JT nearly gasped. I pumped his cock, watching his face. Watching it change from mirthful to aroused. I sped up my strokes and listened to him moan.

  "Fuck, you're good at that."

  "I've got a helluva mouth on me, too," I said.

  "I bet you do."

  I pushed him onto his back on the pool table. "Let me do what I do," I said.

  I moved down his body and popped his cock into my mouth. My tongue swirled around his cock head while my hand continued to stroke his shaft. My tongue found his frenulum and flicked it, sending a shiver through the big, bad biker before me. That's real power right there.

  I took him in deeper, opening my mouth wide to push him way in, the head of his cock hitting the back of my throat. I tasted his precum on my tongue and it spurred me onward. He moaned and groaned as I sucked his thick cock, faster and faster. And then, when I thought he was at the peak of his pleasure, I stopped. So close to orgasm, but no dice. His cock twitched and he moaned.

  I straddled him, taking his cock back into my pussy. I put my hands on his leather vest and dug my nails in as I moved my hips and ground into him. "No you fucking don't," he said. His hands went to my hips and turned me back over onto my back. "You're getting fucked tonight," he said. And he slammed into me like a sledgehammer, forcing a scream of pleasure from my mouth. He went at me like a jackhammer, loud slapping filling the air, and his moans and grunts loud in my ears.

  I could feel my orgasm coming like a powerful tidal wave. The warmth in my pussy spread out through my body, every nerve ending tingling. My muscles were pulled taut and I yelled in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure crashed over me and I could feel JT's pulsing cock inside me, spurting and filling me with hot sticky cum.

  And then we were both lying there on the pool table, catching our breath, entwined and warm. The smell of leather and musk was in the air, and I knew I wanted to be JT's old lady. I wanted to be part of the Sons of Hellfire and I was going to do all it took to make it happen.

  As JT's cum leaked out of me and onto the pool table, a strange sound reached my ears. Applause. Hooting and hollering. JT and I looked up and saw four men in black leather jackets watching us from the door.

  "Take a picture, it'll last longer!" JT yelled at them.

  They just laughed and clapped.

  JT smiled at me. "So, want to meet some of the brothers?"

  The story continues in

  Sons of Hellfire: Initiation

  and

  Sons of Hellfire: Rivalries

  An Excerpt From

  The Billionaire or The Cowboy

  The COMPLETE Saga

  By Fiona Flask

  He pushed me roughly onto the bed. I bounced back on my ass, skirt billowing. He snarled at me. His piercing blue eyes stared at my green ones, then examined my body carefully. He loosened his tie. He told me, "Take off all your clothes."

  I giggled nervously.

  "Is that funny?" he asked, sharply.

  "No," I said, wiping the smile off my face. "Sir."

  He nodded, brows narrowing as he watched me intently. His hair was greying around the temples. Flecks of salt in his pepper. He had a day's worth of stubble on his square jaw and a muscular body under his three-piece-suit. And God, was he rich. That suit might have cost as much as my monthly salary. Probably more.

  "Strip," he commanded, impatiently.

  I fired into action. I unbuttoned and peeled off my cardigan. My blouse and bra came away to reveal my size F tits. I'm a big girl, and I used to be shy about it. But that was before I met Hank Tarbell, the billionaire who was watching me shed my clothes.

  I met him three months previous. I worked in the secretarial pool, for one of the lower level managers. It was his company, Tarbell Software, and I was low, low, low on the totem pole. I had seen Mr. Tarbell in passing. Entering and leaving the building. Going to a floor much, much higher than mine. But he didn't notice me until a few weeks into my job.

  I was filling out an Excel document when Mr. Tarbell came onto the floor with my boss, Gary. I was in shock when I was introduced to him. People that rich and powerful don't seem like regular humans. They seem to walk on a cloud of confidence and privilege everywhere they go.

  Mr. Tarbell shook my hand, and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lois. And welcome aboard." I just about swooned. And there was something in his eyes, as well. He was too in control to have sneaked a peek at my cleavage, but there was something animalistic and hungry about his handshake, his words, and that look in his eyes.

  It was a week after that when it happened. I was working late. The office was deserted except for me, my brown hair frizzy and my eyes heavy. I had been staring at the screen all day and I was trying to get something done before the weekend, but I was starting to go loopy. I was so bored. My mind started to wander to Mr. Tarbell, and his firm handshake and piercing eyes. I imagined how firm his grip on my ass might be. How his hot breath and tongue would feel on my pus
sy. My nipples hardened as I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair.

  My fingers went to my nipples. I rubbed the sore peaks through the fabric and moaned. My other hand went under the hem of skirt. I closed my eyes. In my mind's eye, I could see him buried in my cunt. I could feel his stubble very gently scratching between my thighs. A moan turned into a whimper as I slid my middle finger into my fast moistening slit. I spread my legs wide. My other hand tugged the buttons on my shirt open, and pulled down my bra. The cool air on my nipples made them harden all the more. I eased a second finger between my pussy lips. A wetness was spreading down my thighs, soaking into the fabric of the chair, but I didn't care.

  The rhythmic squelch of my fingers plunging in and out of me filled the air as I arched my back and cried out loudly. My breaths were ragged. Each plunge of my fingers eliciting louder moans. "Mr. Tarbell," I choked out. "Fuck me." As I orgasmed, it felt as though electricity was shot through my body. My muscles spasmed and I slowed my fingers and took deep breaths. I licked my fingers clean and opened my eyes.

  Mr. Tarbell was standing right there.

  I jumped, struggling to hide my body, throwing my skirt over my legs, and pulling my shirt back together as best I could. My face burned. Shit, shit, shit. How fucking embarrassing. "I'm sorry," I said, stammering. "I'm sorry." Few had seen me so naked, so exposed. A couple of old boyfriends, maybe, though I usually insisted on doing it in the dark. I had a hard time feeling sexy, given the wideness of my hips, and the extra pounds on my stomach. I was sure that the image of my jiggling fat would be revolting to any man. And here he had seen me, in the unforgiving fluorescent light, masturbating with my skirt pulled up and my shirt pulled down.

  Mr. Tarbell looked unamused. "This is an office," he said. "This is a place of business. Have you no self-control?"

  "I don't know what came over me," I said, nearly crying. "It won't happen again. I thought I was alone. Please. It won't happen again." I needed this job. If I got fired, I definitely wouldn't make rent.

  "This is unacceptable," he said, disgust on his face. "You need to control your urges. You're not an animal." He looked around. "This offices reeks of sex."