Taken by Bikers Read online

  “Trouble out here, teacup?” He said, looking at me. Brian took his hands off me quickly, spinning around so that we were just sitting side-by-side again. I was breathing heavily, heart pounding, as I pulled my skirt down and straightened my shirt.

  “No, no trouble, thanks,” I said, looking at my lap.

  “There better not be. We don’t like trouble from punks like him,” Cash said, shooting daggers at Brian. Brian ran his hands through his hair, aggravated.

  “Leave us alone, dude, this isn’t your business,” Brian said, slurring his words slightly. I realized Brian was probably drunker than I’d realized.

  “Anything that happens here is my business,” Cash spat.

  “Well, we’re leaving now, okay?” Brian said, still not looking up at the burly stranger.

  “You’re taking her home? I don’t know if I think that’s such a good idea, asshole,” Cash said. “You gonna just bother her some more?”

  “No, sir, it’s fine, really, it’s nothing,” I said quickly, not wanting any trouble. I looked up at him, trying to stop whatever was going on between him and Brian.

  “Shut up, Sara, I don’t need you standing up for me!” Brian said, suddenly enraged. He stood up and faced Cash. “She’ll be fine. She never has to do anything she doesn’t want to do. Isn’t that right, Sara? We never, ever do anything you don’t feel like doing, huh?” He was staring at me at this point, eyes shaking in anger.

  “You better sit the fuck back down, little boy, and talk right to your lady. She ain’t done nothing to you that I can see ‘cept not let you get your little rocks off,” Cash said, taking a step forward.

  “Get in the car, Sara,” Brian said, voice shaking. I could tell he was as afraid as he was angry. I could also see the way he was swaying, and realized he wasn’t just drunker than I’d thought; he was very drunk.

  “I don’t know, Brian, you shouldn’t drive right now,” I said, only concerned with our safety at that point. I didn’t care about Brian being mad at me, or the way he’d been treating me, I only wanted to know that we were both going to get home safe.

  “Shut up, Sara! Get in the damn car! I’ve had it with your bullshit tonight, and I’ve had it with this jerk and this stupid bar. I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me,” Brian barked, grabbing at my arm and pulling me off the bench.

  “Ow! Stop, that hurts!” I cried out. Everything happened in a flash after that: all of a sudden, Brian was on the ground, holding his head and yelling, and Cash was standing in front of me with his arms on his hips.

  “Get the fuck out of my bar,” he said through gritted teeth. Brian scrambled to his feet, still holding his hand over one of his eyes. When he pulled his hand away, I could see his eye was already beginning to swell.

  “You crazy fuck! You crazy fucking biker trash! You can’t do this! I’ll sue the hell out of you! Sara, get in the damn car! We’re going to the fucking cops and having this whole fucking place shut down!” I started crying, from shock and nerves.

  “You wanna kill yourself driving your drunk ass home, go ahead, but you ain’t putting anyone else’s life in danger. And you wanna go to the cops? And explain just how you got there after 6 drinks? Go ahead. See what they got to say ‘bout that.” I realized, as Cash spoke, that many of the men from the bar had filed out onto the porch and were standing around, arms crossed, staring at Brian staggering around the parking lot. There was a moment of silence as Brian swayed and stared at the crowd.

  “Fuck it. Sara, you wanna fucking find your own way home, fine. I’m not dealing with this shit over some goddam virgin prude,” Brian said, digging his keys out of his pocket and heading to the car. He threw the door open and stared at me around the group of men.

  “I’m not going to the cops, you stupid bitch, you know where I’m going? You wanna fucking know where I’m going? I’m going to get some fucking ass. You know your little friend Monica? She’s always up for a fuck, I’m going to get some pussy ‘cause YOU never give me ANY. I been fucking all your friends, Sara, so how does that fucking feel, huh? You should just given it up, you stupid bitch,” he yelled. I was shaking and sobbing at this point, and the new realization only made it worse. I bawled like a baby.

  “Fuck out of here, rich boy,” yelled one of the men.

  “We’ll do you worse than a shiner if you ever come back,” yelled another.

  “I’m gonna find you and kick you ass, and your father’s ass, and your mother’s ass,” yelled another.

  “Get fucked!” yelled another. Brian hit the top of the car, slammed the door, and sped away from the parking lot, swerving all across the road. Even despite everything that had happened, my first concern was his safety. Worrying only made me cry harder. Suddenly, I felt a warm grip on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw Cash looking down at me, hand on my shoulder, massaging it gently.

  “Tux,” he said. One of the men approached. He was a shorter, younger guy, kind of thin but still strong-looking. His long, dirty blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail. Cash turned to look at him.

  “Follow that little shit. Just make sure he doesn’t end up in a ditch. We don’t need that kinda problem. Get his address too, just in case. He’s just a mouth, he won’t do anything, but we should know where he’s at anyway.”

  “Sure, boss. I only had two beers anyway,” said the younger man. He looked down at me with a sympathetic look on his face. “You don’t deserve none of that. Kid’s a dick.” I sniffled and nodded. The younger man walked away and I heard a bike rev up, then saw his taillights as he disappeared down the road.

  “Tux’s right, teacup. You don’t need no one treat you like that. Come inside, we’ll get you something nice to drink and call you a cab,” Cash said, still massaging my shoulder. Despite all my raging emotions, it felt good to have his hand on me. It felt…safe. I stood up, adjusting my clothes again, and followed Cash into the bar. The horde of men followed us, then dispersed in the bar, returning to their original positions milling around the bar and tables.

  Cash walked me up to the bar, hand still on my shoulder, and pulled out a stool. I lifted myself up and grabbed a napkin to wipe my nose and cheeks. I started to feel very ashamed. After all, I had just been caught being fondled by my boyfriend, who then tried to start a fight, got beat up, and left by telling me how he’d been cheating on me. I don’t think I’d ever been part of such an embarrassing scene in my life. Cash beckoned one of the bartenders over.

  “Give us a hot toddy, Gina,” he said. The bartender, one of the blonde ones, gave me a long look, shaking her head.

  “You got it, boss. Poor thing. Rough night, huh, sweetie?” She said, reaching out a hand to pat my arm. She left to make the drink and I was left alone with Cash.

  “I’m s-s-s-sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t th-think anything w-w-w-was wrong and th-then…” I tried to speak, but was still racked with sobs.

  “Oh, don’t apologize. That little shit was looking for trouble. Him and his little friends been in here before, starting shit with the ladies and trying to act cool. Nothing makes me happier than getting rid of a little turd like that. Don’t you worry, you didn’t do anything wrong, teacup,” Cash said, still massaging my shoulder. I wanted to lean into him and cry into his shirt. I felt so ashamed, and hurt, by Brian, and this older, rougher man was…I couldn’t even think it. I just saw there wiping my tears and looking down at my lap. Cash called to one of the other bartenders.

  “Call a cab here, huh?” Cash turned to me again. “We’ll get you home safe. Don’t worry. What got you thinking you should come out to a place like this, anyway?” He had that half-smile on his face.

  “I-I-I just, B-B-Brian said it would be fun,” I stammered, suddenly even more ashamed. This man was right. I had no business being here. I was just a little girl, no idea what she was really doing. Cash let go of my shoulder and patted me on the back.

  “Yeh, I could have guessed that. Don’t tell me, now, that you’re gonna go back to that asshole. I don’t care what h
is sorry ass says to you, you don’t do it. You have some pride.” I could only sniffle. It was just too much to take in. Cash grabbed my chin and pulled my face up to meet his eyes. “Tell me you won’t go back.”

  “I won’t,” I said, surprising myself by the strength in my voice. Cash’s hands were rough against my skin. It felt good, to be held that way. I looked into his eyes and I don’t know what happened. It was like something deep inside of me woke up, hungry.

  I grabbed Cash’s huge, muscular body and threw myself into his arms; leaning up, nearly falling off the stool, I kissed him. His breath was hot and tasted like whiskey; for a moment he didn’t respond but then I felt him kiss me back and my heart raced. I felt his hands on my hips and he squeezed tightly; the slight embrace was enough to make me moan. Then he pulled back abruptly.

  “Well, now, teacup, that was nice, but this is not the time or the place for that kinda behavior. You don’t have your head on right,” he said, shaking his head. I looked around the bar and realized everyone was staring at us. I bit my lip and dropped my head, more embarrassed than ever.

  The bartender planted a cup of warm tea in front of me. I grabbed it, wanting to do something with my hands to distract myself from the shock and shame that was rolling through me as I thought of all those dirty, lecherous faces watching me. I sipped slowly and was surprised by the subtle taste of whiskey. Here goes nothing, hopefully I’ll wake up and won’t remember any of this, I thought, and drank deeply.

  Cash had his half-smile on again, and was reaching for a napkin. He wrote something down on it, quickly, and passed it to me. He leaned in very close to my ear and whispered, “if you ever have your mind right and wanna see me again, though, you go ahead.”

  I looked at the napkin. It was his phone number. I blushed again and pushed it away. There was no way that I would ever want to see any of these people again. I was just drunk, that was all. And confused. Because of Brian.

  “No, no, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I said, trembling. Cash’s grin never left.

  “Suit yourself, teacup,” he said. Outside, I heard a car approaching. “That’ll be you. Here’s enough to get you home.” Cash pulled out a gigantic wad of bills and handed me one. Looking at it, I saw it was a hundred.

  “Oh, no, really,” I started to protest.

  “It’s a long ride, teacup. And don’t worry, there’s always more where that came from. Right boys?” He said, turning to the rest of the bar, who were still watching us. Cheers came from all around. I hopped off the stool.

  “Thank you, for everything, and I’m, I’m real sorry,” I said again, backing towards the door. Conversation resumed as though nothing had happened, and I dashed out the door and into the cab.

  That night, I had the strangest dream. I was in the desert, but it was cool, with a breeze blowing and clouds shielding the worst of the sun. I was lying on the warm sand, burying my feet and hands in the fine particles and letting it run through my fingers. I felt safe and warm. I was wearing a short dress, almost like a nightie, and I didn’t have any panties or a bra on, but I didn’t mind. It felt good being exposed. Then, I felt fingers creeping up my legs.

  I remember looking down and seeing Cash between my legs, half buried in the sand, his rough hands moving up my calves and then past my knees. He was looking at my exposed pussy and I thought it felt wrong but I liked it. As his hands passed my knees and began slowly making their way up my thighs, my breathing grew rapid and I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest. I said something, but I don’t remember what it was. Cash’s lips were chapped from the desert sun and sand.

  I remember watching his hands creep ever closer, his fingers just barely brushing my thighs, making my skin rise in goose bumps and shake with pleasure. Finally, his fingers found my pussy and began tracing my slit; at the same time, it seemed, his whole body moved forward so that his face was hovering right above my pussy. I could feel his hot breath on my clit and I remember wiggling my toes in the sand, feeling so good and wanting more.

  Please, I said, in a dream-voice, and just as I woke up I remember feeling Cash’s fingers entering my pussy, and his tongue reaching out and licking at my clit. I woke with a start and immediately blushed, even though I was all alone in my room. I discovered that my hand was buried between my legs, and I could feel my own wetness on my fingers. No matter how much I wanted to just roll over and forget the dream and go on with my day, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment longer, rubbing myself against my hand, feeling the way my body responded to the stimulation and the friction of my fingers against my clit.

  I moaned softly into my pillow as I gyrated against my hand; I rolled over onto my stomach and lifted myself slightly onto my knees, giving me more access to my clit and pussy. I’d never masturbated before, but I knew what felt good so I kept doing it, rolling my fingers around my clit while thrusting my hips against my hand.

  I tried to continue the dream I’d been having, imagining Cash’s lips against my pussy, his tongue taking the place of my fingers, and found myself thrusting harder and harder, rubbing faster. A throbbing pressure began to build in my pussy and I groaned into my pillow as I continued to finger myself.

  “Sara! Come down for breakfast! You’re going to be late!” I heard Mom’s voice calling from down the stairs. At the sound of my name my heart stopped and I froze. What would my mom and dad think if they saw me like this, and knew what I was thinking about? What if they found out I was getting off on the idea of some low-life criminal licking my young, virgin pussy? I was utterly ashamed and almost felt like crying.

  I jumped out of bed and hurriedly threw on some clothes, then ran out to the hallway to go downstairs. I paused and turned into the bathroom instead. I washed my hands in hot, soapy water; I still thought I could smell my own pussy juices on my fingers. I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping it could wash away any sign of guilt. Looking at myself in the mirror, I only hoped that Mom and Dad wouldn’t notice anything different about me. I certainly felt different.

  I was ashamed, it’s true, but I also felt sexy, and my pussy was aching. I wasn’t sure, at the time, what an orgasm felt like, but after the way I felt playing with myself that morning, I knew that it had to feel amazing. I wanted to feel that. I wanted to come; my body wanted it. And I knew, deep down, that it wasn’t just an orgasm I wanted. I wanted Cash.

  He was old, and dirty, and probably a major criminal; but I wanted him. He was strong, and he made me feel safe, and his eyes on mine had felt so…dangerous. I wanted to feel his eyes on mine again, his lips against mine, his eyes on every inch of my body, and his hands…

  “Sara!” my mother called again from the bottom of the stairs, making me jump. I realized I had been standing at the sink with the water running for at least a minute, thinking about Cash and the things I wanted him to do to me. Blushing again, I turned off the taps, took a few deep breaths, and headed downstairs.

  “Well, there she is!” Dad said, looking over his newspaper with a smile. “Oversleep? Or just daydreaming? About Briiiii-aaaan?” Dad loved teasing me about having a boyfriend. The truth was, he really liked Brian and thought he was a good guy. High school football hero and straight A student, he was exactly the type of guy you wanted to bring home to your parents. I felt a rush of anger remembering what he had done to me the night before. But I couldn’t exactly tell Mom and Dad the story.

  “What’s wrong with you this morning, you’re so quiet,” Mom said, pouring me some coffee and setting a bowl of cereal in front of me.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, doing my best to smile back naturally. It didn’t seem to quite work, because Mom gave me a weird look.

  “Well, whatever, honey, just make sure you get to class on time,” Mom said, turning back to the dishes. I felt like I was wearing a shirt that said “slut” in big letters, the way my parents were just going about their normal morning while I was upstairs fingering myself and dreaming of some stranger’s tongue dancing around my clit.

>   When I checked my phone that morning, I had ten missed calls from Brian, and about 15 “I’m sorry” texts. I deleted them all without reading them. I was so done with Brian. I went to class, as usual, did my homework, as usual, and came home and had dinner, as usual. What wasn’t usual was the way I couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. Inevitably, I would feel my attention drifting back to Cash.

  After a week, nothing had changed. I didn’t have dreams every night, but often enough to drive me crazy. Finally, my will just broke. I realized what I needed to do, and decided to do it quickly, before I could change my mind and try to just endure the torture.

  On the Saturday after first going to the biker bar, I woke up determined. Jumping out of bed, I immediately got dressed and headed out. I knew there was nothing in my wardrobe that would make me fit in, and I didn’t even think I could ever fit in no matter what I was wearing, but I decided that if I was going to do this, I needed to go whole hog.

  I drove through town, rejecting all the cute little boutiques and name-brand stores that were my usual haunts. Instead, I pulled up next to a store called “Wyld Thing” that had leather jackets and chaps displayed in the window. In the store, I ignored the snickers and comments from the burly men behind the counter.

  “Going to a costume party, sweetheart?” one called out to me as I browsed through a rack of leather vests. I shot him a dirty look and kept searching; I pulled a few off the rack and turned to the men behind the counter.

  “Got a changing room?” I asked, trying to sound tough. The men just grinned.

  “Not here, honey. But we don’t mind if you wanna change right here, do we?” one of the men said, nudging the one next to him. I felt my skin crawl at the thought of these jerks enjoying the sight of my young body.

  “Well, what’s your return policy?” I demanded, trying my best to hide my disgust.

  “Well, you can return anytime you want, but those don’t come back here, sweetie.” I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t pick anything without trying it on and didn’t want to have to pay for three vests if I only needed one, but realized I didn’t have any options. Throwing them down on the counter, I crossed my arms and looked into the distance as one of the men started ringing me up.