2 comments/ 123937 views/ 68 favorites Taken in by Demons By: Autarchic4Ever 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. Taken in by Demons Ch. 02 Earlier I described how I came to be a club girl for the Demons Motorcycle Club. I moved into their club house and became one of them, giving up what few items I owned in the process. I eventually stopped talking with my family since every time I called I was drunk or stoned and I really didn't have much in common with them any more. I had a new family. My parents and brothers didn't like it but I had my own plans and they didn't include going back to college. I was given a vest after my rather intense initiation. It had a patch that read "Property of Demons MC" and I wore it proudly. In the clubhouse I rarely wore more than the vest and panties for the first month. I was the new plaything and everyone wanted to play. Skeeter had named me Cherry and that was all anyone ever called me. I didn't even use my own name any more. That name was from another life. Since I was considered club property everything I owned belonged to the club. I could leave whenever I wanted by simply taking off my vest and walking away with nothing but the clothes I was wearing. Taking even a change of underwear would be stealing from the MC. I had no intention of leaving though. The MC was involved in various activities. Chef cooked meth which the guys and some of the girls would sell. Although using it was discouraged, many of the club members did. I had no desire to try it myself; especially after Chef said if I did she'd put me in a shipping crate and send me to a whorehouse in Bolivia. Jimbo ran a service garage and did repo work on the side. The MC actually owned two clubs and a downtown motel that rented rooms by the hour. It was essentially a whorehouse for street walkers. One of the clubs was they owned was the one I was at when I met Skeeter and Danny Boy. The other was a strip club called the Snake Pit. In addition to meth the guys sold coke, weed and guns. They did collection work for people, repossessed vehicles and provided security for those who were willing to pay for it. Many of the women had daytime jobs to help support the club. Some were either prostitutes, dancers or both. Most of the male members had legitimate jobs. Some did not. Ax, the Sergeant-at-arms, and all of the enforcers held concealed carry permits and were always armed. Since nobody in their right mind would ever testify against a member of the MC, none of the enforcers had felony convictions. It was a pretty secure feeling knowing that whenever we went anywhere there were people around us who would fight to the death to protect us. Nobody messed with club property, and the women in the MC were all either club property or the property of a member. I think my favorite was still Skeeter; a natural born skirt chaser with an addicting smile and a knack for charming his way into the pants of nearly every woman he met. My least favorite was Danny Boy. He made no pretense about seduction. He simply took what he wanted when he wanted it and tended to be rough about it. When I had been with the MC for about two months Spider, the president, suggested that I take up dancing so I could earn some "walking around" money. I took that to mean that my time of doing nothing but drinking, smoking weed and having sex with any and all of the club members was coming to an end. I wasn't opposed to the idea of teasing a room full of guys but I had absolutely no talent. "Mary Kate," one of the strippers who looked a lot like the Olson twin of the same name, agreed to work with me. After two weeks of daily stretching, workouts, running and starving, I was beginning to think she was trying to kill me. My dancing was so bad she brought in reinforcements, and soon teaching Cherry to dance became a club project. I was so tired when I went to bed at night that I didn't even know who was on top of me; or care. We went to the Snake Pit on Sundays when it was closed and during the week before it opened. It was a rough looking place in a very old building, but in its day it was probably a classy place. It had crystal chandeliers that nobody had bothered to steal. The bar was mahogany trimmed with brass. A thrust stage was the central focus of the room with tables arranged around it. A corridor on the opposite side of the room as the restrooms led to the VIP rooms, which was surprisingly well kept. The dressing room door was opposite the rearmost VIP room. A narrow corridor connected to the back of the dressing room. Another short corridor and heavy velvet curtains connected to the back side of the stage. The dance pole was centered in the stage and well secured; anchored to the floor and a steel catwalk which was 15 feet above the stage. A tape strip at the 12 foot mark indicated the highest point a dancer could climb and still be seen by the entire audience. The dance pole was intimidating at first since I couldn't seem to climb it and the other girls did it with ease. Mary Kate told me to just keep practicing and not worry about it since I didn't have to climb up the dance pole to turn men on. I had lost a few pounds since joining the demons. I was now just over 100 pounds and five foot three, with 32C breasts, long red hair, green eyes and a baby face that all the club members enjoyed blasting with semen. Actually I liked it too. It made me feel like a porn star. The manager of the Snake pit was appropriately named Snake; a tall, lean man in his 50's whose features betrayed a lifetime of abusing booze and drugs. His Special Forces tattoo was featured prominently among the others that sleeved his arms. His sunken eyes didn't miss anything, though. He sat back by the DJ booth sipping straight bourbon and watching over every detail; whether it was dancers practicing in the off hours or whether the club was packed and girls were hustling drinks and lap dances. He gave me the creeps at times. The first Sunday I was there I was on the stage with Mary Kate, dressed in a skimpy two piece outfit with crazy high heel shoes that made it hard to walk, let alone dance. I had my back to the pole and she was showing me how to grip the pole over my head so that it looked sensual and not strained. Snake walked up on the stage carrying a larger red ribbon in his hands. Immediately I gave Mary Kate a "What the hell?" look, but I said nothing. She just stepped back as Snake walked up to me and began to tie my wrists to the pole with the ribbon. I had a pretty good idea where this was leading. Having sex with Icabod Crane wasn't very high on my to-do list, but something about it all did seem a little sexy. He didn't tie me very tightly. I guess he wanted me to know that it was all a show. Then he reached back and pulled the strings to my top. As it fell loose on my breasts I wondered how he was going to take it off with my hands tied to the pole. The answer was simple. He wasn't. He just pulled it up and leaned forward to tease my nipples. His tongue circled around them one at a time, and then he reached out and caressed my breasts. By the time he began to tug on my nipples them with his teeth, I was actually getting turned on. When it came to my bottoms, he simply untied both sides and let them drop to the stage. I figured he was getting impatient, but he wasn't. He took the free end of the ribbon and ran it over and around my body, very lightly teasing it over my skin. My hands gripped the pole more tightly as I closed my eyes. I knew Mary Kate was still watching. The other girls began to walk out on stage as well to get a good view of the show. Snake reached down and lifted my right leg. He kept it straight and pushed it back. I think he was impressed at my flexibility because he smiled when he my toes touched the pole. He looped the ribbon around my ankle and around the pole, securing it. Rather than tie it, he put the ribbon in my hand so I could put it down if I got a cramp or something. As I stood there, wrists and ankle tied to the pole, he lowered himself to his knees and slowly began to lick from my anus to my clit. I didn't have to fake the shudders of passion he was causing. He continued until I had no choice but to reward his efforts with one of the most intense orgasms of my life. I expected him to take his own pleasure at that point, but he didn't. I eventually had to switch legs because after two more orgasms I got a leg cramp. Finally he released my legs so I could stand for a moment as he slipped his clothes off. Around me Mary Kate and the other girls were standing watching me with ashen faces and their hands inside the waistbands of whatever they were wearing. I think the girls masturbating watching made it even more exciting for me. I wouldn't wait for Snake to lift my legs and enter me. From how rigid he was as he slid inside I knew he couldn't wait either. My legs wrapped around his waist as he gripped my ass and began to give me what I desperately needed. I let out my sexiest whimper with each thrust, which he seemed to enjoy immensely. When it felt like he was getting close to cumming, I said, "Tie my ankles." Without pulling out of me, he tied my ankles to my wrists and the pole. Bent nearly double and hanging off the pole felt so deliciously naughty I had to come again... and again. By the time I felt his hot seed bursting into me I'd cum at least ten times. My thighs were wet to my knees. My arms and legs ached but I didn't care. My face was flushed, my skin was wet with sweat and I really, REALLY wanted a drink. It was a rainy Thursday evening when I was first scheduled to dance at the Snake Pit. My stomach was so tied in knots that I threw up three times before I finally got the word that I would be next. The club was packed. In addition to a couple dozen Demons who were there to see my first night there were members of two other motorcycle clubs as well. The rest of the club was populated by locals, servicemen, and some guys in suits who were probably in town for some company meeting and looking for excitement. Security was handled by a guy called "Buffalo" who kind of looked like one, only without quite so much hair and with a lot of ink. For my first set I would dance for two songs. During the first I would take off most of my clothes. When the second song started I would take off my lace bra and dance in lace panties. I had the option of working the crowd afterward or just returning to the dressing room. My plan was to do my set and get the heck out of there. About half way through the first song, though, I saw those open jawed stares of lust and realized that these men didn't care if I messed up the dance or not. My apprehensions faded away and I really began to enjoy the tease. I couldn't wait to see their reaction when I finally took my top off. My boobs weren't excessively large but they were boobs and that's all that mattered to this crowd. I guess three months of being passed around like a joint at a Grateful Dead concert had erased my inhibitions because I was almost completely naked in a room full of horny strangers and I loved every minute of it. I finished my set and opted to work the room for tips. I didn't see any sense in putting my top back on since everyone had already seen most of my body and by now I was really enjoying pretending to be a movie star. I did a table dance on my knees for a few Marines. One of them put a five dollar bill in his zipper so I lay on my back on the table, leaned my head back off the edge and twisted around until I could get it with my teeth. He reached out to feel my boobs and immediately got the "Don't touch" warning from Buffalo. After I got the bill I stood on my knees on his chair, grabbed his head and rubbed my boobs over his face. Nobody could say I didn't support the troops. By the time I was half way through the room I was so hot that if I had crossed my legs hard I would have cum in about three seconds. My mind became focused on getting through the crowd and returning to the dressing room to deal with the situation. While I was grinding on one of the business men who looked to be about fifty, he leaned in and asked me how much it would cost to have sex with me. Without even thinking I pointed to Spider and told the man he would have to ask the pres. As soon as I was off his lap, he made a beeline for Spider's table. I hadn't considered that the man might actually walk over to a table full of bikers and asked to have sex with one of their girls. They talked for a few minutes, and then the man went back to his table. When I finished the room I had at least $100 and a few other propositions. As I started back to the dressing room, Spider caught me by the arm. "That gentleman would like you to go to one of the VIP rooms with him," Spider said. "You should have plenty of time before your next set." I knew right then that Spider had pimped me out, and I knew I'd never see a penny of the money. It actually didn't matter at the moment. I needed to cum so badly I was almost grateful. I just nodded and obeyed my president. The man was a little nervous when we got to the VIP room. I was too hot to be nervous. When we got inside I sat down on the sofa, unfastened his pants and leaned over to take him in my mouth. His cock was fully erect and tasted like sweat and pre-cum. I could tell that he needed release as much as I did. After just a couple of minutes I had to stop and slap his cock against my tits hard to keep him from cumming in my mouth right then. We traded places. He sat on the sofa and I climbed up on his cock. As I lowered myself onto him I let out a whimper like it was the biggest thing I'd ever felt. It wasn't, of course. It was big enough to give me what I needed, though. I managed to delay his climax long enough to achieve my much needed orgasm. As the sensations began to fade he started slamming into me rapidly and I could tell he was going to burst. I was using birth control so it really didn't matter if he came inside me or not, but I decided to give him the full show. When the moment was right I got off him, knelt in front of him, and took him in my mouth. He came immediately. My hand continued to stroke him as he filled my mouth, then I pulled him out and let him shoot the last couple of bursts on my face. As he sat back, gasping, I gargled his cum so that it dribbled from my mouth to my tits and then I swallowed the rest. After licking my juices off him, I stood up and put my panties on again. As I was leaving the VIP he stuck another twenty in my hand. I never asked Spider what he charged the man. I did two more sets that night, and had sex with one more guy. I told myself that it wasn't the same as prostitution since I wasn't getting paid. I just did what I was told with whoever Spider told me to go with. The second guy was more my age, probably out partying with Daddy's money. I bent over the arm of the sofa and he fucked me from behind, then he came over my face and tits. It was probably the most exciting four minutes of his life. I did a few lap dances that night as well, but the customer had only paid for the dance so that's all he got. Several times people asked me where they could score some weed or other stuff. I referred them to the guys and said maybe they would know. I knew I didn't want any part of such dealings. By the time the club closed down for the evening I'd made a little over four hundred dollars in tips, which I turned over to Spider. He handed me back a hundred dollars and kept all the rest. When we got back to the clubhouse at about three AM it was time for the after party. I was exhausted. Chef brought out some white powder she called Demon Dust, which was essentially ephedrine and amino acids that you snorted like cocaine. It combined perfectly legal stimulants, but since it was absorbed through the mucus membranes it was an instant rush. It probably had as much of a placebo effect as anything, but it got me going again. Some of the guys had their own white powder which they kept to themselves for obvious reasons. For me it was like doing a couple of those little bottles they sell at the counter of most convenience stores. I was becoming more like one of the group all the time. I had now graduated into stripping and prostitution to help bring money into the club. The girls began to look at me a little differently. I was finally more than a walking cock socket. I was financially able to pull my own weight and contribute like everyone else contributed. I got so smashed that night I let one of the girls pierce my nipples. Fortunately she was sober enough to do it right. The party ended for me about five AM when Danny Boy tossed me over his should and took me up to his room. Party time was over. It was time to face the devil. I actually liked it when he rolled me over on my stomach and took me from behind. I could close my eyes and pretend it was anyone else. I actually enjoyed working at the Snake Pit. I never had to drive so I could drink if I wanted too. Lap dances were the most fun because I got to tease the clients unmercifully. They all wanted more and usually some would pay the MC to get what they wanted. I had all the sex, alcohol and weed I wanted and I never paid for any of it; at least not directly. The Demon Dust scared me because I could see where that could become addictive. I just did my own thing and become more like the others with each passing day. The highlight of the summer was, of course, Sturgis. It was a week long party with concerts, bike races, wet T shirt contests (I placed third), pole dance competitions (lost), burn out contests, massive group rides and everything you'd expect when 400,000 bikers show up in the same place. Everyone wore their colors and for the most part things were peaceful. Demons from other chapters came together and it was like a big family reunion with people who only saw each other once a year or so. I ended up making out with a young blonde from Iowa while the guys cheered us on. It never went further than kissing and stripping each other though, because once we were naked the guys all wanted their own private show. It didn't really matter what chapter you were with. Demon girls were there for demon guys. My second day there I went to get a tattoo. I had been very reluctant to put anything permanent in my skin, but I wanted a reminder of Sturgis and it seemed to be appropriate. I got a red cherry complete with a stem and a green leaf. The place was packed, but when it was my turn I just slipped out of my micro shorts, hopped up on the table and had the man put it where my bikini bottoms would cover. I didn't HAVE to remove them, but by then I had learned to really enjoy putting on a show. I was safe. I ALWAYS had patched members around me who made damn sure that nobody touched me... unless they paid for the right. You wouldn't think with all the free sex to be had that anyone would pay for anything, but I paid for a hell of a lot of booze with $20 blowjobs. Something happened at Sturgis that I didn't witness and nobody was willing to share with me. From what I overheard, somebody felt like they got cheated on a deal and wanted to get even. I don't know who was involved, but it wasn't our chapter. Still, about two weeks after we returned security started getting tighter. The Demons were now at odds with another MC that also had a chapter in Montgomery. We went into a partial lockdown. Nobody went anywhere alone. So far there hadn't been any violence but everyone was sure it was coming. I woke with a start when I felt a piece of paper hit my face. Rolling over, I saw Danny Boy standing in front of me with his usual, pissed off look. The paper was a bus ticket. "Go home, Cherry," he said. "You don't belong here now." I was devastated. What did he mean I didn't belong here? Hadn't I proved my worth? I tried to plead my case through my tears, but he told me it was a club decision. I knew he was the one behind it, but what could I do? Three hours later I was at the bus station, dreading having to go back to stay with my parents. I had nothing in common with their world any more. I hated Danny Boy for sending me away and I wasn't shy about telling him so. I had managed to save some money so I wasn't completely broke. When I got on the bus Danny shoved some more money in my purse. I had a little over a thousand dollars, but I no longer had my vest. Just like that, I was dumped back into the world I had been so happy to escape. Taken in by Demons Ch. 02 My mom was glad to see me. My father was too, though he looked at me like I was some kind of whore. I was, I guess. I was still their daughter, but not their little girl any more. I was back in their house, but I wasn't home. It was nice to see my old friends, though I knew they talked about me when I wasn't there. By the end of the first week I had a job at a local bar and an apartment of my own. I didn't use my real name at the bar. Everyone called me Cherry. I never told them how I got the name. Seven years have passed since then. I now live back in Montgomery with my husband, Dan, and our three children. I did get my vest back, though it now reads "Property of Danny Boy." As expected, things got violent after I left. We lost one patched member and one of our prospects in two separate incidents. The loss was repaid with interest. Almost a year passed before the two national chapters finally declared a truce. When the truce was declared, Danny Boy called me at work and told me he would be there to pick me up in two days. He just expected me to quit my job and ride back with him. I did, actually. I've been riding with him and on him ever since. Telling me to get the hell out of there was his way of keeping me safe. One thing about being with Dan is that when people ask me how I met my husband I can just tell them that he raped me in a bar. I get the strangest looks with that answer. 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.