Taken in by Demons

"Spider" was the club president. It was an elected position but once elected he was the absolute authority. He looked like a Rambo with a bad attitude, but he was cordial enough to me. "Rocket Man" was the vice president. He looked a bit like a younger Robert Redford but with Charles Manson eyes. "Doogy" was the treasurer. He looked kind of like Don Knots but had a baritone voice and thick glasses. He also wore a Special Forces tattoo so I know he was no Barney Fife "Luke" was the secretary. He looked to be in his early fifties with a pot belly and more tattoos than anyone I'd ever seen. "Hammer" was the road captain, and was responsible for safety when the club rode together. "Ax" was the sergeant-at-arms; responsible for discipline and the enforcement of club rules. He was completely bald and looked like all the bikers you ever saw; real or fictitious; rolled up into one 250 pound package. Ax was probably the toughest guy in the club.

The amazing thing to me was that all these rough looking, hard core guys seemed as friendly as could be; at least with each other. The girls had their own banter but it was obvious that they weren't exactly considered equal. The women served the men, the men protected the women. It was all very primal.

Among the women there was less of a pecking order. The queen bee was Sandra, Spider's ol' lady. They were married, but with the club any female who was exclusively hooked up with a member was the ol' lady. The same rules applied as if they were married. They were not to be touched unless otherwise invited by the member. All the ol' ladies were considered equal. The unattached girls were below them, and were considered communal property. There was a wiry, dark haired girl they called "Chef." I think her real name was Jess, or Jesse or something like that. Chef didn't cook food. She was a chemistry major and cooked meth. She had a way of licking her lips when she looked at me that let me know if I stuck around long I was going to grace her mattress.

Most of the members didn't live at the clubhouse. It was mostly the club officers and unattached girls who were there full time. Members came for meetings or to hang out. It was a constantly changing combination of faces and names. The male prospects had to serve the members by doing non sexual things that the girls didn't do. Among other things, prospects did all the maintenance and kept the bikes spotless.

When I mentioned my car again, Spider told one of the guys to call "Jimbo" and have it brought back to the garage on the wrecker. He then told me that Skeeter and Danny Boy would take me to get my things from the motel. Since it was raining we'd take the truck. The way he issued commands was so matter-of-fact nobody questioned him about anything. He assured me that Jimbo was the best mechanic around and that I'd be on the road by lunch time. I breathed a sigh of relief but tried not to make it look obvious that I wanted to go. The president had given my release orders. I felt secure in that, at least.

We rode to the motel with me in the middle of the seat and the men on either side of me. Skeeter drove. I didn't talk very much on the way. They talked about things that had happened with club members that they thought were funny, like Mason's wife trying to ride his Harley and crashing it into her new Corvette. I felt grungy because I hadn't had time to shower and I was wearing last night's dirty clothes. I really didn't much care for Danny Boy. After all, he had just raped me the night before. Or did he? Could I call it rape if I never actually told him no? I knew he wouldn't stop, but did I try? More importantly... did I even WANT him to stop? I began to wonder just how much of what I felt was due to what I assumed to be Ecstasy and how much was my own dark fantasies becoming reality.

When we got to the motel I unlocked the door and walked in. The two men followed me and locked the door behind us. At the moment I didn't even pay attention that they locked me in with them. I just reached under the bed to get my suitcase. I was wondering if the guys would mind waiting while I took a quick shower and changed clothes. When I stood up, however, Danny Boy took the case and sat it by the door. Skeeter took a couple of steps forward and looked at the bed, then looked at me.

"This bed doesn't even look fucked in," he said. He pulled me to him and kissed me. I started to reply and then I felt his hands grip my top and begin to lift it up.

"It doesn't look fucked in at all," Danny Boy said. He moved behind me and reached around me to unfasten my pants.

Suddenly I was in between two horny men who seemed to have every intention of double fucking me on the bed. I started to protest. I wasn't drugged now, and this was NOT my idea of a romantic coupling. "No, please," I whimpered out. "Please, no more. I just want to go. Please?"

Skeeter responded by pulling my top off over my head. Danny Boy pushed my jeans to my knees. Skeeter kissed me; not roughly not insistently. Then he moved back and pulled off his shirt. I began to whimper. Danny boy held my arms as Skeeter reached out and caressed my breasts, then sucked on them as he unfastened his jeans. When he stepped out of them he pulled my body against his and rubbed his chest against mine. Danny Boy stepped back to quickly pull off his clothes.

I had two choices; fuck them or get raped by them. Either way, they were going to get exactly what they wanted. I could scream, of course, but nobody would help and they would immediately find some undesirable way to shut me up. Then it would get rough. I tried pleading with Skeeter but I think it turned him on. He lay back on the bed and pulled me on top of him. Danny Boy took off my boots and slid my jeans off. Then he joined us on the bed and lay on his side next to us. I felt his hand rubbing over my ass. Then he slipped a finger into my pussy which was once again betraying me by becoming dripping wet. He pulled his finger back out and slowly traced it over my anus.

I tried to turn away by Skeeter held me tightly. He kept kissing me. He was holding my harms and my legs were on either side of his. His hard cock burned against my clit. "No!" I said to Danny Boy. "Not there. Please, not there. Not both at once."

I have to admit that getting double penetrated was a fantasy of mine, as was being taken by dominant, aggressive lovers. My mind told me that resistance was futile. My pussy begged for it. All I had to defend me was my fading will. I was never a fan of anal sex because it usually left me sore for two days and it never made make me cum. I also knew from experience how thick Danny Boy was. This was a three to four day anal throbbing about to happen.

He wet his finger in my pussy again and pushed it into my ass to the second knuckle. I whimpered and tried to squirm away. Then I felt a sudden sharp slap against my ass. It made me jump. It wasn't intensely painful, but it did sting a little.

"You know you want to be a naughty girl, don't you, Cherry?" Danny Boy asked me. When I failed to answer, he slapped my ass again. "Don't you?"

"No." I replied.

Danny Boy side two fingers into my pussy to get them wet, then put the tips together and pressed them into my anus. I cried out as much in frustration as in discomfort. He pushed both fingers deep inside my ass. Skeeter lifted my hips and slid his long cock into me. Danny continued asking me the same question, spanking me a little harder each time. He wasn't trying to hurt me, but he certainly was trying to redden my ass. It was working. My ass began to burn from the repeated slaps, but my pussy was on fire. Something about the way the men were dominating me ignited my own primal fires. I bucked against Skeeter as my muscles tensed and I lost control.

"Yes! Yes! I want to be a naughty girl," I finally whimpered out. The spanking stopped. After a few seconds I felt something cool on my anus. His fingers slipped more easily inside my ass. I realized that he had brought some form of lubricant, which meant that they had planned this from the start.

"I knew that the instant I laid eyes on you," Skeeter said. And instant later he reached down and pulled my cheeks apart hard. I felt the coolness of the lubricant on the end of Danny Boy's cock, followed by a LOT of pressure. When my anal muscle finally yielded, I screamed. It was the most intense thing I could remember feeling. It hurt like hell. I put my head on Skeeter's chest and sucked air each time Danny Boy pushed it in deeper. If Lamaze could help push a baby out of a pussy it should be able to help take a cock up the ass, right? I never felt so completely filled. I yipped like an injured puppy dog each time Danny Boy's thick cock further invaded my ass.

When he pulled back it felt like he was sucking my guts out. Then he pushed back into me harder. As my anal muscles began to relax, he began fucking my ass harder and harder. Skeeter rubbed my clit and worked his cock deep in my pussy. The two men were obviously well practiced at this, because in now time they had a rhythm that was driving me wild. The passion completely overtook me. Here I was being raped up the ass and pussy and what did I do? I came. I came harder than I had ever cum in my life. I came again and again as the two men double penetrated me for the better part of an hour.

When they finally erupted inside of me my hair was plastered to my skin and Skeeter's. Our bodies and the comforter were soaked from sweat and cum. I'd screamed out so much in passion and sometimes in pain that my throat was raw. My ass hurt every time Danny Boy slammed into it, but I kept crying out for more. The pain made me high. The pain made me aroused in ways I'd never imagined. I acted like such a wanton slut that I was actually embarrassed. I was even more embarrassed when Danny Boy pulled his cock out of my ass. Anal cum isn't exactly clear and isn't white like in the movies. It's dirty and gross. I needed a shower and at that moment they'd have had to shoot me to stop me.

While I was in the shower Danny Boy went to settle the bill. Since I'd already paid the night before, settling meant that he got the money back and my name was taken off the books entirely. There would be no record I was ever there; a fact I wouldn't learn until later. All I knew at the time was that when I finally emerged wrapped in a towel he handed me back the $42.50 I had paid for the room. It gave me the illusion the men could be trusted.

The ride back was NOT comfortable. My ass burned and there was no way I could sit that made it feel better. At least I had fresh clothes on and more clean clothes at my disposal. Everything else I owned was in the car. I actually had a maxi pad in my panties because I was still seeping some cum and my ass was spotting blood. I thought at first he'd torn me, but had that happened there would be a lot more than a few spots here and there.

I cried when I saw my car. All the windows were smashed out of it and everything I owned was gone. The tires were slit. There were parts taken off the engine and all the seats were cut. It was a total loss. They had even taken my IPod. Jimbo said that some local punks must have seen it on the side of the road and trashed it. I was devastated. I cried so hard that Skeeter had to carry me upstairs. That wasn't the whole of it. When I checked my suitcase my money orders were gone.

The only people who could have taken the money orders were Skeeter and Danny Boy. When I walked back from an hour long crying session in the room the two of them were sitting with Spider and speaking in hushed tones. I had to be very careful about accusing anyone of taking my funds. Unfortunately, I was too shaken up to think about the position I was in before speaking. "Someone took my money orders," I blurted out. "There was $450 worth of money orders in my suitcase and now they're gone." My lip was trembling in a mixture of fear and grief.

Spider looked up at Skeeter. He had a look of concern on his face that I knew was fake as hell. "Who had access to her suitcase?" he asked, though he knew the answer.

"It was there when we got there and never out of our sight afterward," Skeeter said. "The motel clerk must have robbed her."

Spider nodded. "I never liked that bastard," he said. He turned and called over his shoulder. "AX! Go down to the motel Cherry was at last night and shoot that thieving bastard clerk."

"You got it, boss," Ax said. He started toward the door. I suddenly realized that I was about to get someone killed. I couldn't let that happen. I knew he hadn't taken my money. I also knew then what had happened to my car; both before and after it broke down. This had been a set-up all along.

"Wait," I said. I moved forward as fast as I could to get to the door before Ax did. "No. I remember now. I had them with me when I left. They were in the glove box. Maybe they're still there."

They weren't, of course. They never were. The guys all blamed it on the local punks, but I knew damn well what had happened. I knew where I was and what my situation was. There was no cellular signal out here, and even if there was my phone had been in the car. The only phone in the house belonged to Spider and nobody was allowed to use it. If I left, I walked away with my suitcase in hand and not a penny to my name. I had a choice to make, but I wasn't thinking much about choices. I went upstairs and grabbed my suitcase, then walked out the door. I didn't exactly remember how to get to town, but nobody offered to drive me. They didn't try to stop me, either.

I'd made it about a mile up the road. It was hot, the suitcase felt heavy and I was miserable. A single motorcycle rode past me and then parked at the edge of the road in front of me. I was so exhausted I just threw down my suitcase, sat on it and stared at the road. The boots approached me; light steps, short quick strides. It had to be a woman.

I felt a single finger lift my chin and my eyes met Chef's.

"You may not know this, but we all love you, Cherry," she said. "Our group may have a funny way of showing it sometimes. You're like us. Your passions are stronger than your ability to follow normal rules of behavior. People call us outlaws because we live by our own codes, but any man in this club would defend you to the death. You'll never find that loyalty with the citizens."

I swallowed hard and thought about what she was saying. She was right in that I never really seemed to fit in. The outlaw bikers were the only ones that even attempted to understand that.

"We took a vote," she said. It's not official because everyone isn't here, but it's enough. We'd like you to join us, Cherry. Come and live out your passions with us." With that she brought her lips to mine and kissed me. I'd never kissed a girl, but I didn't break the kiss. Her finger under my chin increased in pressure, causing me to rise to my feet. Her hands slid under my T shirt and began to caress my breasts. I should have been repulsed, but I opened my mouth and my tongue sought hers.

The road the clubhouse was on was narrow and sparsely travelled, but it didn't matter. Nobody messed with the club; especially out here. Chef pulled my shirt off slowly, breaking the kiss only to remove it. I responded my removing my shorts and panties. We left my clothes in the grass and walked the few steps back to the bike. She put me on the seat, lying with my back on the tank and my outstretched arms over the handle bars. Chef leaned in and dragged her tongue slowly over my pussy and clit. My eyes closed against the brightness of the sun as she continued. She told me that she'd wanted to fuck me since she first saw me. As her fingers explored my pussy and ass, her tongue and teeth on my clit sent me into uncontrollable tremors of ecstasy.

When it was my turn to return the favor, I couldn't believe how sexy it was going down on her on that bike. A car went past us slowly as I licked Chef's hot pussy. We both flipped the occupants off without even looking to see who it was. My love of oral sex seemed to not be limited to cocks because after the initial hesitation I recreated everything that Chef had done with me. I did add a couple of things, like blowing cool air over her saliva coated clit and dragging my hair over her labia. She had made me cum so I returned the favor by making her cum three times.

I promised her that I would spend the night in her bed so she could fuck me with her strappy. I couldn't wait. I began to feel a lot better about everything; not because I was becoming lesbian or bi-sexual; but because I did actually feel like I belonged with the club. Of course, since I was unattached I would be a club girl. Other terms for a club girl, I would learn, included "mama," "sheep," and "well girl." It was a girl who was basically a public well that anyone could dip into at any time. They were considered club property, and once voted in would wear a vest that read "Property of Demons MC." By agreeing to join the club and wear the vest, I was basically volunteering to be a bipedal cum receptacle. Just the thought of it made my pussy leak.

Unlike the guys, who had a long probationary period and a very hard initiation that usually required committing a felony for the club, club girls were initiated by gang rape. In my case it lasted two days during which time 36 men and 14 women fucked me every way imaginable. I sucked cock and licked pussy until my tongue was swollen. I drank cum until I puked and then drank more. It ended when "Doc;" a former resident who decided he could make more money creating designer drugs than paying malpractice insurance; decided that I'd had enough and any more abuse would put me in the hospital. As it was I ended up with ice packs, IV's and a week in bed; alone.

When I could walk again I was given a party and a vest. Being younger than most and more flexible than any of the other girls I was very popular. I was part of a family now. I finally wrote my parents and told them that I was doing fine but that I wasn't coming home. I am at home with the Demons. I don't sell drugs. I don't dance at clubs, turn tricks, wait tables or even do dishes. I'm a fuck toy for the men and women in leather, and I love every minute of it.