Taken in by Demons

Everything changed for me the night Professor Gilbert's wife came home early and found the two of us in the living room; both naked; him on the sofa and me in front of the sofa on my knees, sucking his cock. My 35 minute presentation of the fine art of cock sucking had just reached its conclusion. The combination of saliva and pre-cum I had smeared all over my face in the process of giving him everything from a rim job to deep throat had him in an animal frenzy. He gripped my hair with both hands as I stroked him to final climax and reaped the reward of a face and mouth full of hot cum. The beauty of that facial was lost on Mrs. Gilbert, who simple slammed the door so hard a pane of glass broke and yelled "ALBERT!" I jumped at the noise and lost my balance, so I fell backward onto her Berber carpet as the good professor tried to cover up. I froze as I started to get up because I now had the icy stare of his very enraged 50 year old wife.

I looked at her with the traditional deer-in-the-headlights look. This wasn't good. I was a student and this was definitely a violation of school policy. Since Mrs. Gilbert was from a wealthy family she had nothing to lose by picking up the phone and calling the dean of the college. It was pretty obvious to her that I was trying to make up for blowing an exam by blowing the instructor. As I scrambled to grab my clothes and make a very hasty exit I knew that I was going to bear the brunt of this episode. I wished then that I hadn't bought a car with the tuition money Dad sent and that I hadn't taken out a student loan for tuition. I wouldn't be graduating from this college, that's for sure.

By the following afternoon Professor Gilbert was scheduled for an unpaid leave at the end of the semester and I was expelled. The reason for my expulsion would be sent to my parents via a certified letter. The school's official position was that I had solicited a professor to raise my grade in exchange for oral sex. When he refused, I attempted to blackmail him and ruin his marriage. Of course it was total bullshit. It was further bullshit that they were sending the certified lie to my parents since I was 19 and I didn't live at home. I certainly wouldn't be living there after this.

I gave my roommate a hug goodbye, told her I'd write her and all the other lies you tell when you know you'll never see someone again. Then I loaded up my car, closed my bank account and left. I really had no clue where I was going but I knew it was NOT going to be home. I had no intention of listening to my father going off about what a slut I was or to hear lessons about propriety from a man who's been fucking his office assistants for 20 years. Instead I pointed the car south and headed for the Gulf of Mexico. If I was lucky and didn't spend much money I could make it to the ocean. Maybe I could get a job that didn't tie up my afternoons so I could spend some time on the beach. The more I thought about it the more excited I became. I was going to do what I wanted for a change, not what my parents decided was best for me.

It was getting late as I passed through Montgomery, Alabama so I decided to get a room for the night at a motel. I checked into room 126 and tucked my suitcase under the bed. There were traveler's checks totaling $450 hidden in the liner. I didn't want to carry cash and I wanted to keep it safe. This was to be my first real venture on my own and I was getting excited about the possibilities.

I decided to take a shower and get cleaned up a little. In this case that also involved dragging a razor over my most private area, which I had started to shave a few months earlier at the suggestion of a boyfriend who had lasted about three months. I like the feel, though, so I keep it baby smooth. When I had dried off I decided to check with the front desk and see if there were any teen clubs around. I knew I couldn't pass for 21 but I was never much of a drinker anyway. The desk clerk said there was a club up the road that would probably not card me so long as I didn't try to buy alcohol. They even had a live band tonight. That sounded just fine to me.

Just to feel sexier I decided to wear my jeans without panties. I loved the sight of them sliding over my hips and cinching closed over my bare flesh. I have a low cut grey top that I always liked. The way it's cut I can't really wear a bra with it but though it does a pretty good job of accenting my breasts it covers the important parts. After a little lipstick and a hint of blush I gave my appearance the once over with the bathroom mirror and decided that I looked pretty good. My red hair hung to mid back in loose curls. My freckles had mercifully mostly faded out. I stood all of about five foot three and barely broke 110 lbs so my breasts looked bigger than they really were. I still had a bit of a baby face but all in all I was pretty satisfied at the newly independent young lady looking back at me in the mirror.

The club was supposed to be just a couple of miles up the road. After about six miles I was about to turn around when I saw it ahead on the right; seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It looked kind of run down. There were an assortment of vehicles in the parking lot ranging from BMW's to pickups, and three Harley's in front parked in the handicapped spaces. A guy wearing black jeans and a vest that read "Demons MC" was standing in the parking lot talking to some guy in a pickup truck through the driver window. I figured he was either buying or selling dope. I would have gone right then but the music sounded good and it looked through the windows like everyone was having a good time. As I walked past the motorcycles and into the club, I was imagining what it would be like to ride one. They looked exciting... and dangerous.

I sat down at a table near the stage and watched the crowd for a few moments. Two guys who apparently belonged with the Harley's outside were also wearing vests and drinking beer, but certainly weren't hassling anyone. In fact, the only loud person in the club looked like he probably owned one of the BMW's. I drank a Diet Coke and danced with a couple of guys who really weren't my type but I was having fun. I was planning on getting an early start in the morning so I wasn't going to stay too long.

A very obviously drunk guy came up to me and asked me to dance just as one of my favorite songs was being played. I agreed, though he was certainly not my type. He kept trying to bump and grind on me but he was getting too close for comfort. I cut the dance short and went back to the table. He returned to the table and told me I owed him a dance. I told him that I didn't owe him shit, and if he didn't leave me alone I'd call the bouncers. As it turns out I didn't have to, because the two bikers came over and very politely asked him to leave me alone. He just looked at the men and walked away without another word.

They two men introduced themselves as "Skeeter" and "Danny Boy." They'd obviously been drinking but they weren't rude or belligerent. They were obviously members of the same club as the man outside, but the only motorcycle riders I had ever known did charity runs and held boring jobs. I had never met anyone who called themselves an outlaw biker. Frankly, I didn't know the difference.

Skeeter was tall and lean with blue eyes and a rugged smile that gave me the impression he spent most of his time enjoying the hell out of his life. Danny Boy was more stocky and soft spoken. He looked like he could be a hell raiser if he wanted too. The guy who was outside never did come into the club so I figured he had gone home. I was teasing myself with the idea of letting Skeeter spend the night with me at the motel, but of course I was nowhere near that bold. I never had a one night stand.

I did dance with the men. I danced with Skeeter while Danny Boy watched our drinks, and then I danced with Danny Boy. Both of the men were older than me by at least a decade but they didn't try to get me drunk. It was a little after one when I looked at the clock and knew I had to get going home. I was feeling strange. I felt hot. I felt incredibly horny. I knew I had to get out of there, but Skeeter wanted one last dance. As we danced close I began to rub myself against his leg. My pussy wanted a cock in it like never before. Skeeter slipped his hands under my top and began to feel my breasts. A soft moan broke through my lips and I could almost feel the wetness soaking into my jeans.

Skeeter took my hand and pulled me toward the mens room. I resisted only slightly at first. I knew he was taking me there to fuck me. What I couldn't understand was why I needed it so bad, but I surrendered to the passion and let him pull me into the room. He pushed me hand against the sink and reached down to pull my top off. I didn't even try to stop him. When my breasts were exposed I saw him give me a lustful smile. After he unfastened my pants and pushed them down he told me to take off my boots and take my completely remove my pants. "I want to see what I'm fucking," he told me. I got down on the hard tile flooring and took off my boots one at a time, then wiggled out of my pants. Before I could get up he lifted me to my knees, lowered his pants and pushed his cock into my mouth.

I love to suck cock. I love the taste, the scent, the sight and the feel of it. My hand gripped his cock eagerly and I began to stroke him and bob on him like a pro. I was shamefully aware that I was sucking off a stranger in a public bathroom, but rather than turn me off it made me hotter. His pre-cum coated my tongue. I slowly flicked the tip of my tongue over the sensitive skin on the underside of his cock. I was aware that someone had entered, but I was too far gone to care or even to look at who was watching us.

When Skeeter pulled me back to my feet it only took an instant for him to guide his cock into me. I let out a groan of passion and gripped him tightly. He lifted my ass to the edge of the vanity and began to fuck me hard. My nails dug into his shoulders slightly as I held on tightly and slammed my body back against him. There was no romance in this action. It was simply animal lust and the heat of passion. He nearly came inside me a couple of times, but he stopped and just ground against me until the moment subsided. Skeeter had himself a little redheaded slut and he was planning on pounding my pussy for all it was worth. I yielded to the passion and came as he fucked me. He continued all the way through my climax and then pulled out.

Skeeter put me on the floor and pushed the tip of his cock into my mouth. One hand gripped me by the hair and the other one stroked his cock. I felt him erupt in my mouth. His cum pulsed in waves and shot against the back of my throat. I gulped it all down; not that I was given much choice. I would have anyway, but somehow being forced just made it even hotter.

Skeeter reached down and lifted me to my feet. "Good fuck, Cherry,": he said. He slapped me on the ass and stepped away. Before I could move Danny Boy took his place behind me and dropped his pants to his knees. "No," I said. "Just him." Danny didn't pay any attention. He pushed me down over the vanity, pulled my arms behind me and shoved his cock into me in one hard push. He was thicker than Skeeter, though not as long. I knew I had no choice but to submit to what was, in my opinion, rape. I just wanted it over so I could go back, clean up and try to forget it all ever happened.

Danny Boy fucked me so hard that I grunted involuntarily from each thrust as he drove the air from my body. He used my arms for leverage to slam into me. I wasn't going to cum with Danny. I just lay over the vanity with tears in my eyes as he raped me. I didn't get the impression that they were going to hurt me. These guys knew the law would never hassle them over fucking some chick in a club, consensual or not.

After maybe ten minutes of hard core fucking, Danny Boy jerked my head back by my hair and came inside me. Thee he also slapped me on the ass and told me I was a good fuck. The two men left me lying over the vanity and walked out. I grabbed for my clothes and hurried to get dressed and get out before I was raped again. As soon as I had my clothes on I slipped out of the mens room and into the ladies room to rise off my face. My purse was at the table so there was no fixing my make-up. There were two other women in the bathroom but they stopped talking when I walked in. I could feel their eyes boring into me. All I wanted to do was to get out of there. As I walked back out the door I heard one of them say, "Whore."

I was tired and a little sore but I tried to look as natural as possible. I felt like everyone was staring at me though in reality I'm sure they never looked twice in my direction. I grabbed my purse and as I headed out the door I was never so happy to get out of a place in my life. The cool air felt good and there was no sign of the bikers. At least I could go back, take a long shower, and sleep until noon. I felt like I'd been drugged and the more I thought about it the more I was certain I had been. Just to try and stay alert I rolled the window down for the drive back to the motel.

I didn't make it far before the engine quit. I managed to get the car into neutral and coast onto the shoulder, but it would not re-start. At this point my frustration got the better of me and I burst into tears. It was nearly two in the morning and nobody was around but a few tractor trailers who couldn't have pulled off in the loose gravel if they wanted too. My father had always said if you get stranded that you should raise the hood and wait for a police officer to come by. I wasn't sure I could pass a field sobriety test, but I hadn't been drinking and I was pretty sure I could convince them I'd been drugged. My cell phone had no signal so I tossed it onto the passenger seat and waited for help.

I didn't have to wait for long. Three motorcycles pulled off the road in front of me. My heart sank at the thought of being raped and abused on the side of the road while nobody did anything to help. A single figure; tall and lean; stepped off his bike and walked back toward me. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw Skeeter. Maybe he'd help me out. After all, I'd been very good to him just a half hour before.

"Problems, Cherry?" he asked as he came up to my partially opened driver's window. He still called me Cherry because of my red hair even though I had told him my name.

"The car just... died," I said, trying not to sound desperate. The others stayed on their bikes, which made me feel a little less threatened.

"Let me look," he said. He walked around under the hood and called for me to try and start it. It wouldn't even roll over. Then he did something else and said "Try it now." Again, nothing. After about five minutes he closed the hood and walked back, shaking his head. "One of the club members is a mechanic," he said. "He can pick it up in the morning with his wrecker and he'll fix it for free. You just pay for parts. The thing is, we've all been drinking and there's no way we're going back to town. Our clubhouse is just down the road. You can hang out here, but bad shit could happen. You could thumb it into town, but you never know who if anyone would pick you up this time of night. Or I could give you a ride to the clubhouse and you would be safe and sound until your car was fixed in the morning."

"How do I know I'd be safe?" I asked. After all, he DID just let his friend rape me.

"Because you'd be in my bed, Cherry," he said. "And nobody will mess with you. Promise."

Nobody except him, of course. I wasn't naïve enough to think that spending the night in Skeeter's bed wouldn't involve letting Skeeter fuck me again. I looked into his eyes and my pussy began to tingle. He was the poster child for bad boy fantasies. Somehow I trusted that he was telling me the truth. The though of spending the night fucking Skeeter had my pussy wet again. I agreed to ride with him so I locked up the car and slung my purse over my shoulder. I was not only going to actually ride one of the machines, I was going to go sleep with a biker. Wouldn't my dad just shit?

The bike was a loud, vibrating seduction machine. I held on as we ran through some back roads. The wind blew my red hair around as I snuggled close to Skeeter. I even rubbed his crotch in anticipation, which he seemed to enjoy very much. I figured I might as well get into the mood since we were going to have sex anyway. We turned several times so I had no idea where I was. There certainly was no turning back now.

The club house was an old farm house with a great room on the first floor that was used for meetings and a huge living area that consisted of several rooms opened up by removing the doors and expanding the doorways. There were at lease six bedrooms upstairs and more in the top dormers above. I guess that made it a three story building. In the living area several people were hanging out, drinking or smoking dope. In a chair by the back wall a black haired girl was rubbing bellies with an older biker who wore a crew cut, and was riding his cock in tune with a slow rock tune. Nobody paid them any attention. Obviously public sex acts were commonplace.

Everyone greeted Skeeter. He introduced me as "Cherry." I waved and tried to be friendly to everyone. I was tired though and I knew Skeeter wanted to get his cock into me as soon as possible, so we didn't spend time trying to make friends. We went upstairs to a free room and went inside. I quickly peeled off my clothes and got into bed. He was right behind me. As I rolled to my back he pushed my legs apart with his knees and slid into me missionary style. There was no need for foreplay.

I could hear muffled voices in the adjoining room but I didn't care. As Skeeter began to thrust into me I dug my heels into the mattress and pushed back. I let out a sharp cry with each thrust; partially in passion and partially just because I knew people could hear us. It made me feel wild and wicked. Skeeter then lifted my legs and pushed them back on either side of my chest. I think he was surprised at just how far he could push them. He folded me nearly double so I put my feet under the headboard and rocked up into him. This made him wilder and soon I was crying out in earnest as he slammed into me like a wild man. The headboard banged the wall. I thought I heard a woman's voice saying "Cherry's getting the hell fucked out of her." Damn right I was.

When Skeeter finally came in me it was as if he's been storing it for weeks, even though it had only been a couple of hours. He pushed as deeply into me as he could and erupted no less than eight times. My pussy was sore and flooded. I really needed a towel to clan up but I wasn't going to get one. Instead I just lay there on my back with my feet under the headboard. Skeeter scooped his cum up with his fingers as it seeped out and fed it to me. I actually liked Skeeter. As we spooned together that night I had fantasies of what it would be like to be with him full time. Some time a couple of hours later he woke up and fucked me again. I slept through most of it.

The next morning Skeeter gave me one of his T shirts to wear and we staggered bleary eyed down the stairs. My hair was ruffled and I smelled like sex, but breakfast was on the table and we were told to get our asses down there. I wanted to at least grab a clean pair of panties but my suitcase was back at the hotel so I just had to make sure that I didn't do anything to reveal myself. Nobody would have cared if I did except me.

There was a long table loaded with traditional breakfast food. It was all served by the girls. With the exception of the grill which was off limits to women, they guys didn't cook. I was introduced as a Skeeter's guest, Cherry. It didn't matter what my name was before. To this group my name was Cherry. I thought it was just as well that they didn't know who I was because once I got out of there I didn't want them looking me up. They still scared me. One by one I was introduced to the members of the club.