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And then, suddenly, he gripped me even harder by the hair, moaning and driving his dick deeper than he ever had before.

My eyes opened wide. I felt it begin to pump, to pulse and twitch. The first hot explosion of cum filled my mouth and I swallowed obediently, even in my surprise.

“Oh, fuck me…” Vladimir groaned as his cock spurted stream after stream of hot, sticky cum. I did my best to keep up with the steady flow, sucking it down and swallowing that sticky seed. Finally, his orgasm came to an end.

My mouth was full of his cum and I wouldn’t let him slide out until I was sure I had swallowed every single drop of his cum. It was salt and bitter but not unpleasant. I never understood why girls wouldn’t swallow.

It seems to me that it just goes with the territory. If you’re going to suck a guy off, you might as well swallow it instead of worrying about where you’re going to spit it.

Of course, up until that moment, I hadn’t been able to put my money where my mouth is (no pun intended) but now, I felt like I had reached a milestone in my life. Finally, stroking and milking the last drops of Vladimir’s cum out of his flaccid cock, I let it flop out of my cum covered lips.

“Jesus Christ,” Vladimir said with a sigh. “Where the hell did you learn to do that if you’ve never sucked a cock before?”

“You learn a lot of things in Catholic school,” I said with a cute smile, a few droplets of cum dripping from my dark lips.

~

Vladimir let me back to the Jester Kings’ camp. As we picked our way through the woods, he gave me a history lesson on the club.

“Basically, the club started when some vets came back from Vietnam and couldn’t find work. The mood in the country was so hostile, no one wanted to hire these guys who were, you know… Damaged.”

“Like the guys coming back from Afghanistan and Iraq now?” I asked, just trying to make conversation. Vladimir turned fiercely on me.

“Don’t just assume that we’re messed up.”

I blushed.

“So, you were—“

“Marine Corps. Kandahar.”

“Oh,” I said, falling silent and feeling ashamed. “S-s-sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, calming down instantly and pulling me close. “I am messed up, so you’re about half right.”

I stood on my tip-toes to give him a kiss and he continued.

“They decided it was all a big fucking joke—life, this country, the army—and so they called themselves the Jester Kings. It started off just as a bunch of guys riding bikes, drinking beer, you know, not giving a damn about anything…”

“And what it is now?” I asked.

“It’s still that. We deal, though. We do protection work. We do hits.”

“You… You kill people?”

He glanced at me.

“Does that scare you?”

It did.

“No, of course not.”

“Good. Because you’re about to meet some stone cold killers.”

“How’d you join the Jester Kings?” I asked, trying to get away from the topic of sociopathic murders.

“I had the bad luck of coming home to the States in late 2008,” Vladimir said with a shrug. “Ain’t no one was hiring. I traveled all over looking for work. I’d gone to trade school to become a mechanic before I joined the service but I’d gotten kicked out. I could fix bikes and shit like that, though, and I liked them. So, I just sort of fell in with the Jester Kings.”

“Cool,” I said. I didn’t really know what else to say.

“What about you? Why the fuck did you run away from home?”

I blushed.

“I… It’s stupid.”

“Fight with your parents?”

“No. Not really. There’s this teacher at my school and he’s… He’s a real creep. He started touching me after school and I just got the hell out of there. I started running and I didn’t stop till I got to the woods.”

Vladimir laughed. “So, you just bugged out. You really didn’t plan this running away thing, did you?”

I shook my head.

“Why not go to your parents’ house?”

“They’d never believe me. They don’t pay any attention to me. They don’t give a shit unless I’m getting good grades or winning a trophy or something like that.”

“It’s nice, having parents, though. I never really knew my folks.”

Again, I fell silent.

Why did he have to remind me of what a privileged life I had?

Sure, maybe I wouldn’t get a recommendation from Mr. Wilson but what would be the worst thing that could happen there?

Maybe I went to a state school around here instead of an Ivy out East.

Who the hell cared?

We came to a clearing. In the center stood a bonfire and around it were arrayed ten or eleven motorcycles.

“Vladimir!” someone called out. Two or three bikers, big men, older and not as good looking as Vladimir, started over towards us, lazily. “Who the hell’s the kid?”

“She’s cool,” Vladimir declared, putting a hand in front of me. “She’s just needing a place to stay tonight, is all. I caught her poking around in the woods.”

“What the hell was she doing in the woods?”

“She ran away from home. Someone tried to rape her.”

The bikers fell silent. Their faces were stony and hard but gradually, they softened as they took me in.

“She’s cool. She won’t talk. She just needs somewhere safe.”

Finally, one of the bikers, the one in the middle, who wasn’t all that bad looking now that I got an eyeful of him, despite his beer belly and greying hair, smiled at me.

“You hungry, kiddo?”

My stomach growled suddenly. I realized that I hadn’t eaten since lunch.

They brought me to the fire and sat me down, fixing me up a plate of chili. Vladimir passed me a can of beer. I took a sip and made a face. This was the first beer I had ever had.

“You’re not really a beer girl, are you?” he said with a grin. I shrugged.

“Nah, I drink beer all the time. My daddy just buys me the good stuff,” I said, trying to posture. The other bikers had been listening in and burst out laughing.

“Way to go, Vladimir. Found yourself a little princess, didn’t you? She’s gonna’ be wanting craft beef and champagne and caviar…”

Vladimir grinned and rolled his eyes. I liked these men. I liked their roughness and the way their roughness hid their kindness.

They shared their food with me and told me about themselves: there was Roy, a former heavyweight boxer from Wisconsin who had lost an eye in a bar fight and couldn’t box anymore.

Punk was from Albania and didn’t speak much English, though I gathered from his garbled story that he was an illegal immigrant and had been on the run from immigration services for the last six years after he killed the foreman at a manufacturing plant when it turned out the bastard had been abusing some of the girls who worked there. Brinks, the big one who had offered me food, had been Vladimir’s commander in Afghanistan before joining up the Jester Kings.

“It’s hard, you know, coming back. This country ain’t really set up for soldiers trying to be civilians.”

I just nodded. After all, what could I say? I didn’t know anything about their lives—I had already shamed myself in front of Vladimir. I just listened and took in their stories. Finally, they started to drift off to bed and Vladimir led me to a tent. His tent.

~

We crawled inside and as soon as he zipped up the flaps, he was on top of me.

“Wait,” I gasped, melting into his roughness. He was stripping me. I could hear chuckles from outside the tent.

“Vladimir’s teaching his princess a little thing or two about belonging to the Jester Kings…” someone muttered. My eyes widened at this. Belonging to the Jester Kings? The thought scared me but I’d be lying if I claimed that it didn’t turn me on a little bit.

He stripped my cardigan and shirt off, leaving me clad in only my bra from the waist up. I tried to bat away his hands, breathing heavily.

“This is moving too fast,” I tried to tell him but there was flash of live steel: he had a knife. He slid it under the clasp of my bra and off it came, revealing my full, teenaged tits. I gasped again, covering myself. He forced my hands away and pressed his mouth to mine. God, but I wanted him. I loved his roughness, loved the way he took me by force. I wanted him to break me, to rip me apart…

Our tongues dueled and I found my hips pressing up involuntarily to meet his.

My body was betraying me. I had gotten incredibly wet while sucking him off and now my juices were flowing once again. The smell of his body—leather and tobacco and whiskey—alone was enough to get me going, to make me spread my legs and press my panty covered crotch to his jeans.

He pulled off my skirt, leaving me only in my underwear. Before I knew it, the knife was in my panties and with a single slice, they came off, leaving me totally naked.

“I’m going to make you mine. Do you understand?” he growled, gripping me hard by the hair. I nodded numbly. My body ached for exactly that. He kissed his way down my neck, biting and nibbling at my hot flesh as he went. I was too scared, too overcome with feeling to move. I just allowed him to do whatever he wanted. He caught one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking hard. I let out a gasp.

“Oh, god, Vladimir, yes…” I murmured, pressing his face into my breast. He bit me hard and I yelped at the sudden pain. That only made me want more, however.

I gripped his hair hard and thrust my chest out, as if daring him to bite me again. And he did. Again and again. Soon, my breasts were covered in bites and bruises as I moaned, half in pleasure, half in pain. I never realized how much I loved this kind of roughness…

“You like that, huh?” Vladimir asked with a grin, his eyes sparkling with infernal mischief. I blushed. “You act like a good little virgin but deep down, you’re a naughty little slut…”

“Guilty as charged,” I breathed, trying to pull his mouth back to my breast. But instead, Vladimir sat up and pulled me over his lap, rolling me over so that my ass stuck straight up in the air. I yelped.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you who’s in charge,” he said. I could see him grinning like a kid in a candy store over my shoulder as my voluptuous bare ass wiggled enticingly before him.

“I thought that was already obvious…” I mumbled as he raised his hand and brought it down hard. I yelped and my hips bucked. This was the first time I had been spanked since I was a little kid, unless you count the fooling around girls do in the locker room in middle school. I felt my ass burning with a hand shaped welt formed on my right ass cheek.

“Clearly, your daddy never spanked you enough as a kid, so I’ve got to do it now…” Vladimir growled, slapping my ass again and again.

I knew all the other members of the motorcycle club could hear my punishment, my humiliation. I knew that they could hear me yelping, crying and whimpering as Vladimir spanked my poor little virgin ass.

I imagined them even stroking their own thick cocks as they listened to the lurid slaps of flesh on flesh, imagining my ass growing redder and redder, as if becoming riper and riper…

Suddenly, Vladimir spread my ass open wide and I gasped, feeling incredibly embarrassed.