Devil's Girl: Dust Bowl Devils MC

by Britten Thorne

  I had a chance at revenge soon enough. It was only two days later, and Bill was holding an informal afternoon meeting.

  I waited until Dawn returned from the bathroom. "They want a few beers in there," I said, "They asked for you specifically." She puffed up like a preening bird. Sucker.

  Irish gave me a dirty look, but set her up with a tray of mugs and a pitcher. His pride was still smarting after she rejected him and insisted on continuing to call him Prospect no matter what she was told. When she disappeared into the back with the tray in hand, he said, "You're evil."

  I shrugged and waited for the fireworks.

  A bellow emerged from the back room, followed by several crashes, followed by a shriek. Irish and I exchanged a gleeful look as Dawn stumbled back out into the bar, her hair and shirt soaked in beer. Braless as usual, her nipples were plainly visible behind the thin wet fabric.

  Bill followed on her heels. Uh oh. It was no joke to piss off the president.

  He grabbed her shirt and yanked it up over her head. My stomach lurched. Ok, maybe I went too far.

  "What are you doing?" she squealed. She crossed her arms over her bare breasts.

  "Do you want to leave? You can head right out that door. You won't be allowed back in but no one will stop you walking out."

  "No," she whimpered.

  Bill pointed at Irish. "Get the leash." Irish blanched, but he jumped to obey. The other men had gathered in the doorway to watch the explosion and judging by their smirks, they weren't disappointed. Bill snarled at them, "Tonight, she's mine."

  Irish came around the bar and handed Bill the old, worn leather collar and leash. I hadn't seen this particular punishment doled out often. It was exclusively for rulebreaking bitches, and while we could be a dumb breed, we weren't that dumb.

  Bill snapped the collar around her neck. "Shirt stays off." He clipped the leash to her and twisted the other end around the leg of a barstool. "You don't move unless I retrieve you. Got it?"

  "Got it," she squeaked.

  He fished something out of his pocket - a pill, from what I could tell. Yup, definitely too far. "Open," he said. His tone left no room for argument, though for the first time, fear and doubt crossed Dawn's face. But she opened her mouth and swallowed the pill.

  Bill pushed past the men back into the club room. They followed one by one, taking the opportunity to ogle Dawn's tits.

  Once they were out of sight, Dawn looked to me with real panic in her eyes. "What the fuck did he just give me?"

  "X," I said. "You'll be fine. I think."

  She blew out a breath. "Hell, that's nearly a reward." Her eyes narrowed. "You're a real fucking piece of shit, you know that? Both of you."

  Ha. Where's the airheaded, simpering little blond girl now? Her normally heavy bedroom eyes were filled with fury. "You stepped on the wrong bitch's toes. You'll learn your place after this." If I felt bad, I sure as hell wasn't going to let her know. I did whisper to Irish, though, "Keep an eye on her tonight?" He nodded.

  Dawn had a rough night. Enough to make me feel a little guilty, but not especially. The ecstasy combined with all the leering eyes and groping hands on her breasts had her uncomfortable, to say the least. She squirmed on that stool like she had bugs in her underwear. Bill ignored her for the most part, leaving her seated for a time before finally taking the leash and leading her into a booth and out of my line of sight from my spot by the jukebox.

  "He teased the fuck out of me," she griped when I drove her home later. "I was actually in pain when he finally let me come."

  I snickered. "So overall not a bad time."

  "Still a shitty move, Ivy!" We stopped in front of the motel. "This is war now." I watched her make her bowlegged way back up to her front door before driving off, laughing to myself the whole way.

  ◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙

  She got me good not long after. The very next evening, actually. I’d pretty much given up on Theo - he was still residing in the clubhouse, but he hadn’t been spending any time in the bar at all. When I asked Bill about it, he said he was on a job. Then he took Dawn, Nella, and I aside. “Someone’s been after our girls,” he said. “Our girls” referred to his strippers. That club was located the next town over, and none of us ever went there. Dawn probably could have made a killing, but I was too short and had no rhythm whatsoever. It wasn’t even a consideration. Dawn herself had only said “fuck dancing,” when I asked her why she didn’t give it a try.

  “Did something happen?” I asked, “Like what that guy did to me?”

  “No. He went after you because you’re here at our clubhouse.” Right. A warning and an insult and all that. “No, they’ve actually snatched up a few girls and taken them out of state.”

  All three of our jaws dropped.

  “Close your mouths. Theo’s on the case. He’s gotten a few of the girls back, actually.”

  “But why? And what are they doing to them?” I hissed.

  “Far as we could tell, they rough them up a bit and put them to work doing nothing different than they’re already doing. It’s… well, it’s club business. I’m only telling you three so you’ll be careful.”

  “It’s those motherfucking Eagles, ain’t it?” Nella asked, hands on her hips. Bill nodded. The Northern Eagles were a rival motorcycle club. They had a small chapter maybe a day’s ride away from us, but their main house was a few states over. Doesn’t explain what Theo’s got to do with it.

  “They’ve stolen a lot of shit from us that we’ve settled and let slide. But this is a slap in the face.” I knew the Dust Bowl Devils were far from angels. They dipped their fingers in every illegal trade you could imagine. But that was all - they dipped their fingers. From what I understood, they were involved in transport, storage, some laundering, but never direct trade. It was hard to imagine that anyone would want to make enemies out of them.

  They fought with the Eagles, though, as if it were a longstanding tradition. They fought because they’d always fought. It was a neverending cycle. Stealing girls, though… that was a new low. “Is their whole club involved?”

  Bill sighed. “We think it’s possible. Theo seems to think it’s just a few particularly bad eggs back from his hometown. Don’t worry yourselves about it. I mean it. Just… be careful.” He gave each of us a stern look before sauntering away. I guess that sort of explains it. Truth was, I zoned out when they talked business.

  Jester showed up later that evening, high and horny. I swooped in before Dawn could get her slutty hands all over him. I hadn’t been with anyone since Theo’s spanking and was on edge. Time to get back on the horse. He’s plainly finished with me. After two drinks, Jester led me into the back rooms. I had to resist sticking my tongue out at Dawn.

  She fell into me as I passed and grabbed both my hands, nearly knocking Jester and I over in the process. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” she giggled, “I must have had a few shots too many!” She shrugged and patted me on the ass. “Go on, girly, don’t let me hold you up.”

  I didn’t know what she was getting at, so all I could do was shoot her the stink-eye before passing out of the room.

  Jester looked like a young clone of his father, except that somehow, Bill, the president of a rough and dangerous motorcycle club, smiled more often than the young man. Inexplicably he was even more humorless when he was high. But he was good-looking, and while he was rough he wasn’t cruel like Gunner, so I was happy to entertain him.

  “I’m just gonna check my messages,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Go ahead and get undressed.” He sat on the room’s uncomfortable wooden chair and brought his phone to his ear. I stripped as he watched, his attention split between me and whatever he was listening to. I removed my shirt first and cupped my bare tits for him, but he only nodded and indicated that I should go on. I pulled off my skirt and panties and posed against the bed, back arched, ass up in the air, giving him just a glimpse of the pink at the apex of my thighs. That got his attention a little better - his eyes
darkened, and he tilted his chin at me and said “Lie down. Almost done here.”

  I sat up against the pillows at the head of the bed. Still intent on distracting him from his important business, I bent my legs at the knees and spread them open. Then I let a hand lazily trail down to my pussy, grazing my lips with a light touch. I felt a slight burning sensation. Should’ve washed my hands, I thought as I wiped my fingers against the blankets. Then I dove back in with a firmer touch, stroking deeper between my sensitive folds, seeking the growing wetness as I anticipated the rest of the evening’s activities. Jester liked to have me toy with his asshole while we fucked - though heaven forbid I ever put any words to the act - and sometimes would finger mine in return. It felt deliciously dirty, and thinking about it brought forth a wave of fluids.

  But something was wrong. That slight burn very quickly became a fire. I pulled my hand away, but it was too late. “Oh, my God,” I mumbled, looking down at myself. Nothing seemed amiss - I was a little red, but there was no visible dirt or anything.

  And then the fire became an inferno. “Oh my God. OH MY GOD.” I fanned myself as a high-pitched shriek tore from my throat. The pain took my breath away.

  Jester dropped his phone. “What the fuck? What’s wrong?”

  “It BURNS!”

  He backed away as if it was contagious. “I’m gonna get Nella.”

  I barely heard him. I scrambled to my feet and ran for the bathroom. “Fuck fuck fuck!” It was like fucking napalm. It just kept getting worse. I leapt into the bathtub, turned on the water, and positioned myself beneath the faucet so the stream ran directly against my burning pussy. I shrieked again. The water did nothing at all to help. I’d even swear it was making it worse, spreading it everywhere.

  Nella materialized in the bathroom. She looked down at me in my compromising position with her mouth wide open and shook her head in shock. “Jesus, Ivy. Did you catch something?”

  I wailed, “No! It started when I touched myself! Do something!” Someone laughed behind her, then another, deeper chuckled. Dawn and Irish hovered over her shoulders. “Get the fuck out of here!” I screamed at them.

  Nella elbowed Irish. “Get some milk, fast.” He took off running.

  Dawn was still laughing. “What did you do?” Nella asked her.

  “Oh, God, Ivy, you should see your face. Got jalapeno juice on my hands, and-” she dissolved in another fit of giggles.

  “If you two don’t cut this shit out, you’re both getting the boot!” Nella shouted as Irish returned. She turned off the water and, lifting the gallon jug, poured milk directly against my pussy. It didn’t stop the burning but it cooled me down at least a little. She sighed. “Would you two get out? Who’s manning the bar?” Irish muttered under his breath as he left, his shoulders still shaking with chuckles. Dawn followed soon after, but not before I flipped her the bird. She only grinned.

  “I’m serious,” Nella said once they were gone. “This rivalry has to stop.” She poured another quick splash on me.

  I relaxed my head back in the tub and breathed through the pain - it was much more manageable now. “Girl doesn’t know her place.”

  “You think there were no young girls coming in and taking over the room when I was your age?” Nella shook her head. “It’s the natural progression of things. She’ll move on eventually and you’ll have run of the place. But it’ll happen again, with another girl, and then another.” She poured one more cooling splash of white liquid on me, then handed me a towel. I used it to wipe the sweat from my forehead. “You ought to start thinking about making yourself useful in other ways, like me. I did a little schooling, and now I run some of the books and do some hiring at the bar…”

  “I don’t want to be here forever,” I said, my voice small.

  “Then start making other plans. Nothing’s sadder than a girl who talks about leaving and then never does. I should know. I was one of them.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, then, “It still hurts.”

  “Well, it’s going to be a couple hours. Keep the room for the night. I’ll leave this here.” She set the jug down on the sink. “Lie down on the bed when you can stand it and just keep reapplying for a while.” She scowled. “Foolish girls. Just plain foolish.”

  “Thank you, Nella.”

  “Well. Just remember.” She tapped the jug.

  I laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget. Goddamn.”

  I never got the chance to escalate or to take my turn in the little war of ours. Dawn was good - I could give her that much. The girl knew how to push my buttons.

  Word of my incident spread. Between that apparently hilarious episode and Dawn’s night on the leash, things were getting very entertaining in the clubhouse bar for the guys, and the bikers suddenly frequented the place in bigger numbers.

  Gunner especially was a sore spot for me. I liked to think I was the only girl who could handle what he dished out, who could give him what he needed. It wasn’t affection or a crush or anything like that - it was simply territory. Simply pride in taking on the fierce biker; in sating the beast. It was my job, my place, not hers.

  But it looked like Dawn could handle him perfectly well. He chose her over me time and again, so she was doing everything I could do. And then some - then she gave him the one thing I couldn’t make myself give him.

  It was just around sunset that Friday. Many of the bikers were slipping out of their legit day jobs early to have a few beers and check up on what the crazy bitches were going to get into next. I was contemplating my next move. Irish had a few awful suggestions involving drugs and/or laxatives.

  “I know you helped her with the pepper,” I said dryly. At least he had the decency to turn red. “If you play both sides, one day both of us will realize that neither of us can trust you.”

  “I don’t need your trust, I just need your love,” he said, and made an exaggerated kissy face at me.

  “Ugh, shoot me now.” I watched out the corner of my eye as Dawn sidled up to Gunner. He was sitting in a chair at one of the small tables, drinking bourbon and shooting the shit with Anchor and the older man’s new lady friend.

  “Hey baby,” she purred, sliding onto his lap, “Anything I can do for you?” She made an obscene little show of wiggling on his lap. Anchor and the woman exchanged a knowing smirk. Dawn eyed me as she said, “Unless you’d like Ivy’s company better.”

  Gunner’s eyes were locked on her chest. “You’re all right.” He lowered his head and nuzzled between them with a growl. Dawn laughed.

  “I’m the best, right?” she said. He grunted an affirmation.She tilted his head up and kissed him, their tongues dancing and tangling for everyone to see. I scoffed and turned back to the bar. Irish was intently watching their little show.

  “Really?” I asked him. Dawn still wouldn’t give him the time of day. It only made him try harder to get her attention. At least I’ve been getting more free beer out of it.

  He snorted. “She’s gonna fuck him right here.”

  My heart sank. There were few things that Gunner - or any of the bikers, really - couldn’t talk me into doing. But I couldn’t fuck them in the bar. Everyone’s got a line they can’t cross, and that was mine, despite knowing that plenty other biker bitches did it, and plenty of college girls passing through would do it, and so on and so on. The room was no stranger to public sex acts, though it hadn’t seen it very much while I was the only bitch there. Maybe it was how I convinced myself that sleeping around the club wasn’t so bad - in my head, if it took place behind closed doors, it wasn’t anyone else’s business. Out in the open air? It was everybody’s business. It was out there for everyone to watch. And what did that make me?

  So “no losing your pants at the bar” was my policy and it let me live in just a little denial. Gunner was the only one who really had any complaints about it.

  “So trashy,” I said, shaking my head, as if I wasn’t wearing a microscopic miniskirt and tight camisole that barely covered my chest. A
s if I’d never fucked men ten, twenty years older than me, fucked more than one guy in one night, fucked drunk and high and violent bikers, fucked for cash and favors… At least I’ve stayed off drugs. Mostly. I had a good and healthy fear of that downward spiral.

  Sure enough, when I glanced over my shoulder again, Dawn was pulling Gunner’s cock free from his pants and murmuring in his ear. He slid a hand up her skirt to cup her ass and grinned broadly. No undies. Classy. I wanted to get out of there, but I didn’t want to give her - either of them - the satisfaction of making me flee. I didn’t want them to know they were getting to me.

  She shot me a triumphant glance as she lowered himself onto his thick member, straddling his lap and facing him. He groaned and gripped the table behind her.

  “Feels good, baby,” she said, bouncing slowly. He sank his teeth into one of her breasts, making her gasp. He held her hips and dictated their rhythm. Several of the bikers shouted jeers and curses, cheering them on. I felt my own body responding as I watched. A flush crept into my cheeks, and I squirmed in my seat. Damn them.

  “Who else does this for you, baby?” Dawn asked him, running her hands through his hair.

  He grunted. “You.”

  Their chair creaked ominously. “No one else? Not Ivy?”

  “Not Ivy.” He thrust up into her, hard, making her breasts bounce in front of his face. He was completely focused on her and her tits, but she kept shooting me smug little smiles as he fucked her.

  I guess the public aspect really did it for him - he was grunting and sweating, and making the telltale groans that meant he was getting close to the end, fast. “Tell me I’m your favorite,” she purred into his ear, “Tell me I’m the baddest bitch here.”

  He loosed a long, low groan and held her in place, his cock deep inside, as he shuddered his release. Looking up at her with an incredulous expression, he said, “You’re the baddest fucking bitch ever. Fuck.”

  She shot me that smug look again as she dismounted. I wanted to wring her neck.

  I could feel eyes burning into me, bikers and patrons alike. “That was a pretty blatant insult,” Irish said, leaning across the bar. “You gonna let that stand?”