Sierra cried some, her imagination getting the better of her, as they bellowed along the road. It had been a long time since she had a man between her legs, almost a year, and while she might not mind having any one of the guys she’s seen so far fucking the shit out of her, she began to worry that she would be passed around for use by everyone. She kept telling herself she could take it, it was only sex, and she would heal, but that was small comfort and she couldn’t stop her tears.
Without being able to see, it was impossible to estimate their speed and direction, and they could be riding in circles for all she knew. She lost all sense of time and simply hung on and waited for her fate. Finally, after an eternity of darkness, the bike suddenly slowed, banked hard to the right, then began to bounce and heave as it putt-putted along. She could taste the dust in her mouth and, without the wind at speed, she began to sweat profusely, the heat pouring from the engine adding to the already oppressive temperature outside. As the bike plunged and bucked, she knew there was no escaping her decision now. She would certainly die in the desert if she were made to walk.
Finally, the bike surged ahead, a brief squirt of acceleration on a relatively smooth section, before she felt it pirouette to the left then stop. She could feel the bike moving but she couldn’t make out what was happening as Colt blipped the throttle. It fell silent, but she could hear the thrum of another engine in the near distance.
“You can take off your blindfold now,” Colt said.
She removed the blindfold and once again blinked and squinted in the blazing sun. As she stepped off the pinging bike, she could make out a collection of trailers arrayed around a large, dusty, open area filled with bikes. A large generator sat on a trailer with a thick cable leading back to the largest of the buildings, a sun faded prefab metal building larger than the grocery store she where she worked. The compound was nestled in the corner of low, rolling, hills that ran at an angle along the left side and back.
“Where are we?”
“The DVMC clubhouse,” Colt said, tipping the bike over and dismounting.
“DVMC?”
“Death Valley Motorcycle Club.” He turned enough so she could see the patch on the back of his leather jacket. It was large, covering most of his back, a skeleton on a Harley with a buzzard sitting on a Saguaro cactus looking on. “Before we go in, let’s get one thing straight: for the next twenty-four hours, you’re my property. I own you, and if you give me any shit, I’ll kick your ass out. Got it? If you cross me or contradict me in anyway…let’s just say you won’t like what happens next.”
She swallowed hard and nodded.
“Good,” he said, taking her by the arm and walking her toward the building. “Let’s get something to drink. I’m parched.”
The six of them walked the short distance to the building, their feet kicking up tiny clouds of dust with every step. Colt shoved her forward, toward the door, and then waited. She didn’t know what was expected, but after a moment, opened the door. The five men entered without a look back, and she followed, hurrying to catch up.
The building was huge inside. The floor was smooth concrete and there were walls that looked to be normal height but still didn’t come close to reaching the high ceiling. Several giant fans mounted in the walls near the ceiling worked furiously to move the air in a vain attempt to keep the interior cool. It had to be at least ninety in the building, but compared to the broiling heat outside, this was an oasis.
They entered into a large main room that had a bar against one wall, the backing wall covered in liquor bottles in front of a large mirror. There was a sizable group of men and women clustered around an area on the far side of the room, their cheers echoing in the cavernous building. There were, perhaps, fifty in all, more or less evenly split between men and women, but Sierra couldn’t see what they were watching. Suddenly a woman’s voice screamed out in a shriek of pain, causing the crowd to cheer louder.
“What’s happening over there?” she asked they stopped at the bar.
“Probably a duel,” Fletcher replied, stepping behind the bar and pulling out a bottle as the other four men sat down.
“A duel?”
“Yeah,” Colt replied, nodding his thanks as Fletcher slid his shot to him before filling four more glasses. “It’s probably Monica and Skye. Those two are always fucking with each other.”
She didn’t know what that meant, but right now she was more interested in something to drink. “May I have something, please?” she asked softly, keeping her eyes low.
Fletcher smiled, as the other three men took their drinks and wandered over toward the action. “What do you want?”
“Coke? Anything wet.”
Fletcher bent down and popped up with a bright red container, water running from the side of the can before he even sat it on the bar.
“Thanks,” she murmured as she picked it up, opened it, and downed half as fast as she could.
She almost choked when a different female voice cried out in pain, the cheers of the crowd once again rising and then falling. “You fuckin’ bitch!” the voice screamed. “I’m going to rip your tits off!”
“Want to see?” Colt asked, rising from his stool after pouring himself another shot.
Sierra shook her head. “No…I—”
“Sure you do,” Colt said, pulling her away from the bar. “You wanted to come. Let me show you what you’ve signed up for.”
He led her across the floor, pushing his way through the knot of people. Sierra felt her mouth fall open at the sight before her. On some sort of large plastic covered pad, two sweating, naked couples were engaged in…something. The men were on their backs, side by side but turned so their feet were at the other’s head. The two women had reverse mounted them, their hips pumping furiously as they fucked their men…but there was nothing intimate about what she saw. The men were holding the glistening women by their waists, pushing them toward each other as they slapped, scratched and pulled their opponents hair, grunting and gasping in pain, or pleasure, or both.
She couldn’t tear her eyes from the spectacle in front of her, appalled at what she saw, and yet, she could feel herself becoming wet as the women strained, fought and fucked. With another cry of pain, the redhead tore her brunette opponent’s hands from her hair and then hooked her arm around the her head as she raked her nails across the woman’s stomach, leaving behind three red welts. The brunette cried out her pain before grabbing red by the throat. Red replied in kind and their faces began to flush, rising up slightly onto their knees as they battled, the men thrusting into them hard and fast.
The crowd began to roar, sensing the end was near. Suddenly the brunette shuddered and jerked, obviously caught in the throes of a massive orgasm. “You fucking bitch,” the red said, pushing her defeated opponent away in disgust. “You can never take me.”
Sierra watched as money changed hands, the crowd rumbling. She thought the show was over, but the men roughly shoved the women off and then bounded to their feet, their bodies slamming together as they tried to get each other in a head lock. The two sweaty men grunted and strained against each other, their huge, hard, cocks bouncing and swaying as they fought. As the men pushed and shoved, the women stepped behind them and reached around, taking their cocks into their hands and stroked them furiously. The men began to gasp and grunt as the women stroked, their muscles bulging as they strained against each other while crying out their pleasure.
Colt turned away and Sierra followed. “What’s that all about?” Sierra asked as Colt poured another shot at the bar, looking back over her shoulder, unable to believe what she’d just seen.
“I told you. It’s a duel, a challenge. Skye probably challenged Monica since they were fighting. Stupid bitches. That’s all they do, fight.” He slid the bag of cash toward him and began to count the money.
“I don’t understand.”
He said nothing until he finished counting. “What’s to understand?” he asked as he returned the money to a pile and began to count out five piles. “It’s like who’s the top dog. It’s about standing in the club, who can order who around. Shit like that.”
“You don’t sound like you approve.”
“It’s stupid, that’s all. A waste of energy, and it keeps everyone at everyone else’s throats. Everyone is always looking for weakness rather than working to improve the club.”
Sierra was about to say more when she saw two men and a woman break away from the crowd, stripping as they went. They went to a couch where the woman lay down, her head upside down over the arm as one man shoved his cock into her mouth and the other man entered her pussy. She looked around again and realized that everyone, and she did mean everyone, was gorgeous, men and women alike.
Colt finished counting out the five piles then returned the bulk of the cash to the bag, leaving about eleven hundred dollars in each stack.
“What’s that?” she asked, nodding at the money.
“Our cut. The crew gets thirty percent, the club the rest.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
He shrugged. It didn’t seem fair to him either, but it was what it was.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
“Where do you rank in this top dog system?”
He smiled. “Nobody fucks with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I can out fuck and out fight any man or woman here.”
“Are you the leader, president, whatever?”
He smiled. “No. Come on.” He took the bundles of cash and the bag, pocketing one bundle before moving through the crowd, handing another bundle to each of the four men involved in the robbery. As she followed, one of the sweating and straining men, the one with long brown hair, began to grunt and curse as semen erupted from his cock an instant before the bald man twisted him and threw him down hard on the mat.
Red smiled in satisfaction, licking the man’s semen off her fingers. “It’s just you and me, babe,” Red purred to the bald man as the defeated man got to his feet and the vanquished couple slinked away. “You ready to finish this?”
Baldy smiled. “You know I am.”
As Sierra watched, Red slapped the shit out of the man before he grabbed her and threw her roughly to the mat. He fell on her, holding her down, forcing her legs open and driving his big cock into her as she fought viciously. It looked more like rape than anything loving, the two slapping, choking and spitting on each other as they fucked, but the woman was clearly into it and Sierra turned away, unable to watch.
She followed Colt as he approached a fat, hairy, bear of a man who pulled his pants down before lowering himself into a chair. Colt tossed the bag of cash to him as another lovely woman settled between his legs and began to lick and kiss his rigid cock. “We took our cut.”
“What was the take?” the man asked. “And who the fuck is that?”
“About fifteen grand. A cop walked in on us and I brought her as some insurance. She’s my twenty-four.”
The man grunted. “You got a name?”
“Sierra,” she said, unable to tear her eyes away from the woman. She could hear the threesome grunting and gasping as they approached orgasm, the swearing and slapping of bodies of the couple on the mat as they fucked their brains out, and this woman giving head right in front of her. She’d never seen so much sex in her life…and though she knew she should be afraid, she had a deep aching need that she would gladly let Colt satisfy.
“Paul,” the man said, his face twisting as a wave of pleasure passed over him. “I’m the President and…fuck, Trinity…” he said as he began to lose focus, his hands going to her head as he began to thrust his hips.
Colt grimaced as he took her arm and turned her away. She could see through a gap in the crowd the couple on the mat, the man with his arm around the woman’s throat as he took her from behind, pounding into her incredibly hard as the woman’s face twisted in bliss. With a groan she shook, the man pounding into her even harder until with a grunt he pulled out and spilled his essence onto her back.
Colt stepped back to the bar and poured another splash into his glass.
“Can I have one of those?” she asked.
He slid his glass to her, flipped over another and poured it full before tossing it back.
“Why? Why did you bring me here? You must have your pick of these women.”
“I don’t know. He smiled at her, a smile that went straight to her womanhood. “Looking for a new challenge, I suppose.”
“You think I will be a challenge?” she asked as she took a sip. She hadn’t been able to afford booze, so she was taking it easy.
“I don’t know. Will you?”
The sex show over, the men and women began to disperse through the building but all were beginning to notice the stranger in their midst. She took another sip of her drink. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
He grinned at her. “I’ll guess we’ll find out later, huh?”
She returned his smile, hoisting her drink in acknowledgement. “I guess we will.” She knew one thing, the more she thought about what was happening around her, men and women disappearing in twos, threes and fours, and the sounds of sex coming from another part of the building, the more she knew she was going to fuck Colt silly.
By the time food was brought out, she’d loosened up considerably. She had several men and women approach her, propositioning her for sex, but Colt warned each of them off with the phrase of “she’s my twenty-four.” The men and women seemed to accept that and she felt reasonable safe. Combined with the drinks, she was feeling wild and free.
As the evening wore on, the club began to slide into a stupor, the members involved in sex, drinking or drugs. She watched as Fletcher and a stunning woman made slow, intimate, love, in a big chair. She found it amazing that people ignored them because she found it almost impossible to tear her eyes away.
Colt smiled as Sierra appeared to be transfixed by the sight. “That’s Perri, Fletcher’s old lady.” He went on to explain that Nic and Harrison also had old ladies, McKenzie and Bobbi respectively.
“What about you and…” she snapped her fingers, trying to recall the other man’s name that was involved in the robbery.
“Gunner?”
“Yeah, Gunner. Do you have old ladies?”
“No. Gunner had one, but no longer.”
“What happened to her?”
“She left. Couldn’t take it anymore. After she had the shit beat out of her by Monica she gave him a choice, her or the club.”
“He chose the club?”
“Yeah. I think he stayed because of me.”
“And you?”
“No. Nobody.”
“Why?”
“A couple of reasons. Any old lady I take will have a target on her back, and—”
“Why is that?” she asked, cutting him off.
“Because VP is the highest rank that can be taken in a duel.”
“You’re the vice-president?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just trying to put the pieces together. What’s the other reason?”
He smiled, a sad smile. “I’m not sure, really. I want something more than just sex. I can fuck any of these women any time, but for an old lady I want someone who has dreams, someone who wants something more than a hard cock and a fight.”
“You have dreams?”
“Yeah.”
“What dreams?”
Colt shook his head with a small smile, but said nothing.
Before she could press, music began to thump through the building. A rocking salsa mix that made her think of sex. Beautiful bodies began to move together on the floor, their hips swaying and grinding together. She felt herself beginning to sweat even as the desert cooled. “Dance with me,” she said, pulling him to his feet.
He rose and she let the music take her, moving in close, pressing her body to his. She knew at some deep level it was the alcohol reducing her inhibitions, but she didn’t care. As they danced, she began to strip him, first his colors then his shirt. She allowed her hands to play over his muscular torso, feeling the ripples of his abdomen, tracing the ridges and valleys of his body. He was by far the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, the tattoos of bikes, knives and skulls arrayed on his body adding to his bad boy allure. His toned, taunt body shone in the lights, a fine film of sweat making him glow as if oiled. She kissed his chest, relishing the salty taste of his skin and his masculine smell, the smell of sunshine and desert and freedom.
She allowed him to remove her shirt. She wore just a plain, cheap, brassier, but she didn’t care. The press of his flesh to hers as they ground their hips together exciting her beyond anything she’d experienced before. She could feel his impressive erection pressed into her stomach and she longed to feel it inside of her.
He pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely, his tongue battling with hers as their bodies became still. He pulled back from the kiss and looked into her eyes, his face hard with lust. “I brought you here. Now it’s time for you to live up to your end of the bargain.”
Thank God! she thought as he took her arm and shoved her toward the door.