Desert Venom Motorcycle Club: The Complete Novella: (Military and Law Enforcement Erotica) (3 page)

He took his time as he stimulated her. He wanted her to have a strong orgasm. She stopped crying and started gasping an hour later as he pounded relentlessly inside her. Her body demanded his semen. She followed her body.

She stayed in that room for the next three days. He had her three or four times a day. He brought her meals and movie magazines.

Two days later, Colt poked a needle in her arm. Five minutes after that, she could barely stand.

He called Daphne's home number. A girl answered. Colt put on his best minister voice and asked if he was talking to Lauren. He was. He said, "I'm sorry to give you bad news but your sister is ill. She's been living at the Shelter for Abused Women for the last few days. Can you come over and take her to the doctor?"

Lauren said, "Of course. Where are you?"

Colt continued, "There's something else. Daphne told us she doesn't get along with her father. Could you keep this to yourself until we can get her treatment started. We shouldn't bring more stress into her life than we have to."

"Certainly. Where is she?"

"It's hard to find. Come to the parking lot of the Wholesale Grocery store. We'll pick you up and take you to her. It's at 14000 South Center Street. Can you find it?"

"Yes. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Ten minutes later, Lauren stopped in the parking lot. A biker approached her and motioned for her to roll down her window. As soon as she did, he stuck a needle in her arm. She lost consciousness a few seconds later. The biker pushed her over into the passenger seat and drove across the street to the Desert Venom Clubhouse.

Colt gave Daphne to Dirty Don and another biker. They carried her out to Lauren's car and loaded her in the back seat. They drove south until they reached a small cabin. Don and the other biker took both girls inside and poked their arms with syringes again. They had regular sex with Daphne and oral sex with Lauren for 24 hours and gave both girls four more injections. The next afternoon, they carried them into a building on the other side of the border. The place had a lot of bored women wearing very little who looked at the barely conscious girls with disinterest. The day after that, Daphne fucked ten men. Lauren was kept doped up. Once an hour, one of the girls would bring Lauren to a thundering orgasm. Men weren't allowed around her. The Middle Eastern man was due in three days.

***

Sandra Hamilton wasn't a doormat any more. She was on her own now. No drunken husband. She would take care of herself, and she wouldn't put up with Colt cheating on her, not with all she'd given him.

She began working on the lock on her door. It wasn't hard. She undid the screws holding the hasp in place. She escaped from her room at two in the morning. She crept on bare feet around the club. There were lights on in Colt's office and the door was open. She made her way silently to a small space beside the door.

She heard Colt say, "We got good money on the girl, Lauren something. Virgins bring a high price from certain men. We sent her to the Twisted Nut down in Saltillo along with Daphne something. We didn't get much for her. I can never remember their names. Let's send the older bitch, Sandra something tomorrow. We won't get much for her either, but it'll be something."

She listened as Colt and another man laughed. Colt said, "That old broad was entertaining for a while. I'm tired of her wanting more. It'll be good to get rid of her."

Sandra didn't cry. She couldn't make any noise. She crept out again and looked around the kitchen. She saw a set of keys hanging on a hook by the door. She picked them up and crawled out a window.

Colt should have asked her about her life. She would have told him she had grown up with Harleys. That was why she had gravitated to a motorcycle club in the first place.

She looked down at herself. The robe only came down far enough to hide her pussy as long as she didn't take a deep breath. She couldn't risk going back in the club to get more clothes.

Sandra tried the key in each of the five motorcycles in the parking lot, hitting gold with an older Harley Softail.  She turned the key and idled out of the parking lot.

She knew the location of another motorcycle club. She parked the cycle in the parking lot of a grocery store and walked through the warm night to a spot in the woods where she could wait for the other club to open.

Chapter Three
: The Good Guys

Small towns usually employ part-time law enforcement. In Western Grit, Arizona, population 61, with little or no crime, the job came to Isaac Stone, the owner of the Five Pointed Star Clubhouse.

Isaac had been a cop until he was wounded three years earlier. He'd been the man behind the formation of the Five Pointed Star Motorcycle Club, a club open only to present and former cops and any veteran who wanted to ride in righteous company.

The Five Pointed Star Motorcycle Clubhouse was clean and neat on purpose. It's members wanted to separate themselves from outlaw clubs where the members lived like pigs.

Inside the office of the president of the club, a good looking woman with a nice, but hard face bent over a desk, letting an attractive, blonde man named Isaac Stone look down her cleavage. She said, "Why is marriage so important to you?"

He kept looking at her breasts.

"Because I want to get on with my life. I'm tired of being single."

The girl rested her elbows on the desk. "Let me ask you a question. If I took my shirt off and my bra off, would you look at my boobs?"

"Hell, yes."

Without another word, Chica Barenson shucked her shirt onto the floor and unhooked her bra. She looked at the big man with interest before she dropped the bra on top of her shirt. He studied her breasts with commitment. She moved her chest back and forth, making her breasts sway from side to side. She felt their full weight pull on her shoulders. She waited. Finally, she said, "Well. What do you think?"

The man answered, "Baby, I can't think and look at your naked breasts at the same time."

She smiled and walked around the desk. She grabbed his ears and pulled his mouth to her left nipple. He put it in his mouth and bit and sucked on it. She pulled him away and gave him her right nipple. He concentrated on her body. She could see it was important to him.

She walked away from him and settled back in her bra and blouse. Her voice was strident. "Well, dammit. What do you think?"

The man looked her in the eye. "It's not what I want."

"Well then to hell with you." She turned to walk out. She swiveled back. "What's wrong with me, anyway? Why won't you take what I'm offering?"

The man's voice was thoughtful. "There's nothing wrong with you except that you're not in love with me. You know it, and I know it."

She pouted, "Well then, who am I in love with? And why isn't he here, giving me a home and babies already?"

The man countered, "I don't know. Why can't I find a woman to love? Someone I can make a home and babies with."

She walked out, grumbling. She saw a woman come inside the front door, wearing a Chinese robe. A wind blew in as the door closed. The bottom of the robe folded up and Chica saw bare pussy. Chica walked over to her and said, "Do you always run around with your bare ass out in the open?"

The woman said, "I need some help. I've been held captive for four days. I just escaped."

Chica found a bigger robe in her closet. She helped her get it on and took her in to see Isaac.

Isaac led her to a seat at a small table inside his office. He asked, "Would you like something to eat?"

"Yes, please."

Chica said, "We have huevos rancheros and coffee."

"Please. That would be wonderful."

Chica brought the food in and stayed to hear her story.

She said, "My name is Sandra Hamilton. I've been kept a prisoner by Colt Mendoza. He was going to sell me to a whorehouse in Saltillo. He already did that to another girl named Daphne and her sister, Lauren." She stopped talking and eating. She sat still as a stone statue until Chica said, "You have something else to tell us. Would you like to tell me, alone?"

Sandra nodded.

Isaac left the room.

Sandra continued, "It was my fault. I left my drunk of a husband without anything set up. I went to their clubhouse because my father was a biker and I always liked them."

She stopped again. Chica waited.

Sandra started up, "I'm going to tell you everything because it's sitting inside me, eating me up. I was so needy and stupid. Colt gave me a little attention and approval and I opened my legs for him and let him have me. I think he's gotten me pregnant."

Chica held her hand.

"Did he ever threaten to hurt you if you said 'no' or tried to run away?"

"He didn't have to. I gave him everything just because he was nice to me. I'm embarrassed by that, but I'll live. It's the two girls in the whorehouse that worry me. He wanted to send me, too. That's why I ran away."

Sandra couldn't talk. Her tears started and didn't stop. Chica held her until she was calm again then said, "We've got resources to help you. We'll arrange for you to stay in a safe place until you get your life back together. We'll rescue the girls as well."

Sandra kissed Chica on the cheek and whispered, "Thank you."

Chica told Isaac about Daphne and the brothel. Isaac stepped into the middle of the room and raised his voice.

"Anybody want to go on a dangerous mission into Mexico. There'll be guns and bad guys and lots of noise. You might not come back. We'd be rescuing two innocent girls from the hands of evil slavers."

As expected, everybody, including Chica raised his or her hand. Isaac continued, "The target is a brothel in Saltillo. We need to arm up and go down there. Hopefully, we can bring them back."

The members of the club opened the weapons locker and took what they needed.

***

At seven in the evening, they pulled to the curb a block away from the Twisted Nut in Saltillo.

Salazar Trintillo looked seedy. He wasn't. He'd spent twenty years with the LAPD doing undercover work. He walked into the brothel while the rest of the group waited outside. He was planning to go back outside as soon as he saw Daphne. He didn't get the chance.

Isaac heard a gunshot. He drew his .45 1911A1. The rest of the group got out everything from a silenced .22 to a shortened ten gauge shotgun. They stampeded up the stairs and through the door.

The place was a riot. Half naked girls ran in a panic all over the bottom floor. Another shot cut through the loud music. It came from the second floor.

They found Sal backed up against a wall, Daphne behind him. Two bodies lay in that loose, uninterested position that only means one thing.

A quick look around showed that the men who handled security for the brothel had found other things to do.

Daphne looked like she'd already died. Her eyes were shrunken and listless. She'd lost weight. She wore a hooker's camisole and panty set that didn't fit her thin frame. They wrapped a blanket around her. She managed to say, "My sister. She's in a room downstairs."

She led them to a cell in the basement. Someone left a crowbar lying around. Moose Jackson, formerly Staff Sergeant Herman Jackson, Fourth Infantry Division, wrenched the door open on the first try. Lauren was naked and groggy from the drugs. They wrapped her up in a blanket and carried her out.

They took both of them to a hospital for treatment.

The nurse shooed them out. Their parents were in the corridor, looking scared yet hopeful at the same time.

Chapter Four: Inquisitive Jada

Isaac Stone and the other members of the Five Pointed Star MC made enemies with that raid. Colt had to give back the money for Lauren, the re-stolen virgin and her sister, Daphne. Colt made preparations that included a strange little man who was always flicking a cigarette lighter, 200 gallons of gas, and a cell phone.

That night, the strange man broke into the empty clubhouse and planted the gasoline and the igniter fashioned from the cell phone and a match.

The next day, Colt had a conversation with the strange little man who wanted to know when his infernal machine was going to be used. Colt told him, "In a while. I'll set it off when that bastard Stone has his best day ever. I'm patient."

***

Jada Calderon looked at her image in the mirror. She said, "I'm a virgin and I'm too ashamed of it to change it. Nobody's a virgin at 25. Except me."

Jada had everything it took to shed her virginity. She had brunette hair with red highlights, an intelligent face, very good breasts, a tiny waist, and womanly hips. Until she was 19, she'd consciously kept her virginity, warning those boys who wanted her she needed a ring on her finger first.

At 21, it began to occur to her that she couldn't find a boy who loved her enough to marry her. The shame of not feeling good enough kept her from getting close to anyone. She got a job with a local newspaper as a kind of crime reporter. "Kind of" because in Western Grit there was so little crime that most of the time she wrote recipes for chocolate desserts.

The disappearance of Daphne and Lauren O'Connor was the first felony in over a year. Jada got what she could from Daphne's father who didn't say much. His daughter was still in the hospital, and he was reluctant to talk.

Jada was on her way to interview the staff at the Elementary school where Daphne worked when she passed a building with eighteen motorcycles parked out front and a five-pointed star on a sign above the door. Stars on badges usually had five points. She thought she might get lucky and find some cops inside.

She opened the clubhouse door and was impressed. The interior of the building was neat and clean. It looked like a roadside cafe with a bar. Nine men and one woman stood around, played pool, or sat at tables, playing cards. They wore leather vests with sewn-on emblems. Jada noticed a lot of the emblems were badges or military insignia. She went to the bar. A woman with a shirt and visible black bra stood behind the bar. Her shirt was tied underneath her impressive breasts which curved up above the bra and inside the open shirt. Her voice was friendly and not cheap. She said, "Hi, What can I do for you?"

Jada said, "I have a question for a policeman. I saw the sign outside with the badge and wondered if there were any in here."

The bartender said, "Just a minute. I'll get the president of the club. He's a cop." She excused herself and walked through a door into an office in the back. A man with broad shoulders and blonde hair came through the doors. He looked like a surfer who'd wandered inland. Six feet in height, he had good muscular development and big, sure hands. He held out one of those hands to Jada.

"Hi, I'm Isaac Stone. I understand you're looking for help from a policeman?"

Jada shook his hand, "Hi. I'm Jada Calderon. I'm a reporter with the Western Grit Gazette. I'm doing follow up on the kidnapping of the O'Connor sisters. I'd like a little help. Could you explain the general crime situation here in Western Grit for me?"

"I'd love to." Isaac took her into his office and pointed to a table with chairs around it. "Let's sit over there. It's more comfortable." Jada sat down. Isaac asked, "Do you want anything to drink?"

Jada answered, "Could I have something non-alcoholic?"

Isaac stuck his head out the door. "Chica. Two orange juices, please."

He sat down. "How about O.J.?"

"Perfect."

Chica brought in two glasses of orange juice and set them down on the table. She glared at Isaac and leaned over in his direction. The view down her blouse was just as spectacular as before. Isaac looked with appreciation. She said, "Anything else, boss?"

Isaac shook his head. Chica swung her hips outlandishly as she left.

Jada smiled, "That little episode seems fraught with meaning."

Isaac sighed. "We're both decent people and good friends. We're frustrated because we want to get married, but we're not in love with each other."

"Do the two of you have a history?"

"We were partners with the Tempe Police Department for three years. Both of us were wounded in the same incident, left law enforcement, and started this business together."

Jada was so frustrated with her own situation that she said the next words with emphasis and directly to Isaac.

"Do you only like big-breasted women, or would someone my size be good enough?"

That's how it happens. The undeniable spark between a man and a woman. They made eye contact. Her statement was bold and couldn't be ignored.

He was just as bold. He said, with the same emphasis and frustration, "I don't know. Let me see what you look like."

Jada wore jeans and a tee shirt. Everything fit nicely, but the tee shirt was a little loose. She stood up and pulled the tee shirt from the back, straightened and pulled her shoulders back, causing the tee shirt fit snugly over her breasts. She wasn't as enthusiastically full as Chica, but her breasts were more than a handful.

Isaac looked at her intensely. Jada found that she liked his attention. She turned from side to side to give him a good look.

He said, "You're beautiful." He looked a little longer.

"Really beautiful. Thank you."

She sat down again.

Isaac said, "Before we get to your questions, can I see you again?"

Jada didn't often plunge into unknown situations, but she made an exception and answered flirtatiously, "You can see me anytime you like. The question is how much of me you would like to see?"

They paused. It was an important pause. It established they their intentions.

Jada leaned forward. "Before we stop talking about personal things, when do you get off work?"

"Six."

"Do you like Mexican food. Empanada's, enchilada's?"

"Yes, I love it."

"Good." She wrote her address on a card.

"We'll eat at six-thirty. Call me if you're going to be late."

He nodded then smiled at her like a man who found the Holy Grail, "I will."

Jada took out her notebook.

"Tell me about the crime situation in Western Grit."

Isaac settled back in his chair.

"There isn't any. There's lots of criminals, but they do their business outside city limits. Good for us, but awkward. The county talks to us, but we can't help them. We're too small to do undercover work. Everybody knows everybody else. It's bad, though. Thirty of the worst criminals in the state belong to the Desert Venom. They're well run on a personal level.

Everyone in the club checks in with their parole officer on time every week. There's no drugs or hookers or anything illegal in their clubhouse. I know Colt has contacts with the man who runs a string of brothels in Saltillo. We rescued Daphne and Lauren O'Connor. I don't have any hope that we'll be able to tie either kidnapping to Colt. Both sisters were so high on heroin that their testimony won't be worth much." He sat for a moment thinking then suggested, "Why don't we talk to Colt? Maybe, we'll get something. Would you like to come along?"

"Yes. Can I ride with you?"

"No one else."

They walked out. Isaac raised his voice. "Anyone want to come with me and pay a social call on the Desert Venom?"

All of the people inside the building walked out. Chica locked up and got on her own motorcycle. Jada settled behind Isaac's broad back. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her cheek on his back. She could feel the muscles in his back flex as he moved the bike around.

She stayed like that all the way to the clubhouse of the Desert Venom. When he parked and she got off, she grinned at Isaac who grinned back. All twelve of them, nine men and two women, walked inside the clubhouse in a group. Thirty-five pairs of eyes that didn't like cops watched them come through the door.

Colt walked up to Chica and put his hand on her breast. He said, "Hi, Chica, baby. You going to come over to our side now?" He started lifting her breast and moving it around her chest.

Nobody took the bait. Colt wanted to establish dominance by claiming one of their women as his. He expected them to fight back and be overwhelmed by his club's superior numbers or for Chica to be offended and react emotionally which would humiliate Isaac.

She put her hand on his and pressed it harder against her generous chest. She looked him in the eye and said, "How's that cockette of yours, Colt. Did it ever get any bigger? Do you think a girl might be able to notice it's there yet?"

She seized his middle finger and bent it back. Colt flared into anger. Chica grabbed his wrist and held it immobile. He yanked his arm to get it away from her. She held it for just a second longer then let go. He stepped back before he could recover his balance. She grinned at him

He said, "What do you want?"

Isaac said, "Colt, as your friend, I'm truly concerned. Has your cock gotten any bigger? We worry about you."

He'd lost his sense of humor. "Get on with it. You're not here for a social call."

Isaac stuck his finger in the air and made swirling motions. Everybody but Jada and Chica spread out through the club. One of the men opened the door to the little room where Daphne had been abused. Colt paid attention to him.

Jada made her move. She tapped Colt on the chest to get his attention and held up a picture of Daphne.

"Do you know her?"

Colt said, "No. Never saw her before." His attention stayed on the door of Daphne's former room.

Jada punched him in the chest. His head whipped around. Her voice, coming back to him, was hard, "Look at the picture."

He looked, "Never saw her before."

The man who'd gone into Daphne's room came out with a locket on a chain. He held it out to Isaac.

Colt said, "Hey. That's mine. You can't have it."

Isaac saw "Daphne" engraved on the locket, and dropped it in his pocket. "Now, it's mine."

Colt's voice rose, "You can't take them. You can't use them in court. You don't have a search warrant."

Isaac stated peacefully, "That would matter if all of us were cops. I'm the only one here who carries a badge." He waved his hand indicating his fellow bikers, "These civilians can take anything they want, any time they want. We'll have them testify in court about where they found them. That works."

Colt didn't have anything to say. He glared at Isaac.

Isaac and the rest of the club walked out and drove home.

As he watched them leave, Colt turned to his Don, his second in command, "Let's move the timetable up for torching that bastard's clubhouse."

Don said, "Why don't we do it on May eighth? He's supposed to get an award from the city for being a good cop on that day."

"Be nice if we could trap him inside when we do it."

"Yeah. It would be."