Lilith: Lucifer's Legion Motorcycle Club (3 page)

THREE

“This
is a terrible
fuckin
’ plan,” I say. We’ve been
sitting behind a twenty-four hour truck stop diner for over an hour
waitin
’ for some
fuckin
’
waitress
Randy says is inside to end her shift and come out.

“Motherfucker,
she fits what the cartel wants,” he says,
blowin
’
smoke out the cracked window.

“We’re
wastin
’ time,” I say. “You know when she gets off
work? You know if anyone in there saw your dumb ass when you walked through?
You know if anyone has seen us parked out here? It’s
askin
’
for the FBI to come down on the club when she’s reported missing. You have
to
be more discreet about this shit.”

“So
what the fuck’s your plan?” he asks, grinding his smoke out on the heel of
his
boot.

“Women
jog before work. We cruise by walking trails and parks, find one and pull
her
ass in the van.”

“Butch
wants the bitch before daybreak. Chicks don’t jog in the dark.”

I
put the van in drive and head out of the diner lot. “Butch will be happy if
we
have a bitch chained up by the time he gets back.”

I
drive for miles, as far from the compound as I can get, so we’re not
shitting
where we eat and sending up red flags to the FBI.

“There’s
a trail by the university,” Randy says, reading info from his phone. “East
of
campus.”

It’s
the first helpful thing he’s done—or said.

I
find
a lot beside the trail and park. “Think you can put your street name to good
use and bag us a bitch with that face?” I ask.

Randy
chuckles. “Watch and learn.” He gets out and leans against the side of the
van,
lights a smoke and waits. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the
seat. I have no patience, and this is too much like fishing—bait’s out, now
we
need a
fuckin
’ bitch to bite and reel the fuck
in.

I
’m
drifting off when I hear Randy say, “Hey, can you help me out? I think we’re
lost. I’ve been
lookin
’ at this map on my phone,
but
I’m not sure where we are.”

“Sure,”
a female voice says.

I
glance in the passenger-side mirror. She goes right up to him—little dark
haired bitch in a tight jogging bra and shorts that barely cover her ass—and
glances down at his phone.

She’s
on the line, now to reel her ass in.

I
crawl in the back and grab the sliding door handle. They’re out there
chatting
it up, so I crack the door open and make sure there’s nobody else around to
see
us take this bitch.

The
lot’s empty other than us.

“What
you want to do?” she asks, and I pull the door open, grab her from behind,
and
drag her inside the van, kicking and screaming. Randy pulls the sliding door
shut, and she’s ours.

I
pin her shoulders down with my knees and duct tape her mouth. Randy gets
behind
the wheel and backs out of our spot. All we have to do is get this bitch
back
to the clubhouse, and it’s on.

I
tie her hands and ankles and sit back on my heels. “Nobody ever tell you
joggin
’ by yourself is dangerous?” I ask her. “A pretty
little bitch like you could get her ass taken like that.” I snap in front of
her face.

“She
ain’t
blond,” Randy says. “We’ll get
Butch’s
old lady to bleach her hair and wax her pussy.”

“No,”
I say, running my fingers through her hair. “I do it. From now on, she eats
when I feed her. She pisses when I let her, and she comes when I fuck her.”

Her
breath is shaky when she inhales, like it should be. Her eyes are wide, and
she’s trembling. This is a bitch I can train—a bitch I can break and put
back
together—into an obedient little slave.

I
bend down and kiss her forehead. “You’re life belongs to me.”

I
don’t even have to chain this one; she’s so
fuckin
’
scared. She stripped off her clothes when I told her to and stands in front
of
me naked, tears streaking down her cheeks and dripping on her
chest.

“Lift
your arms,” I tell her. “Spread your legs.” I kick one of her feet, making
her
step apart.

I
walk around her, examining her body. She’s
fuckin
’
fit. Muscular thighs, perfect ass, pert little tits with fat pink nipples.
No
art, no birthmarks, not even a blemish on this bitch’s flawless skin. “How
old
are you, babe?” I ask.

“
Tw
-twenty,” she stammers. “Please don’t hurt me. Please.
I’ll do--”

I
wrap my right arm around her head from behind, covering her mouth with my
hand.
“Hush. You’ll do whatever I tell you to, and you’ll learn to like it.” I put
my
mouth to her ear and whisper, “Are you a virgin? Shake your head or nod for
me,
babe.”

She
shakes her head, no.

“Ever
had a kid?” I ask.

She
shakes her head again.

“Good.
Let’s see how tight you are.”

I
pull her back against me and run my left hand down over her flat stomach. My
middle finger touches her pussy first, and she flinches, pressing her thighs
together. “Open up for me, babe. This won’t hurt.” I wedge my foot between
hers
and push her legs open, then slide my finger down to her middle and push it
inside. “
Fuckin
’ tight as hell, aren’t you?”

My
cock throbs, aching to be thrust inside her tight little hole.

I
keep fingering her. “Relax,” I tell her. “Close your eyes. This is your life
now. Getting off, coming over and over again. That’s all you have to do
until
the day you die.”

She’s
wet. She can’t help it. It’s what a pussy does. “You like sex, babe?”

She
doesn’t answer, so I jerk her head back. “I asked you a question.”

She
shakes her head, no.

I
chuckle deep in my throat and kiss the back of her neck, working a second
finger inside her. “You’ll learn to
fuckin
’ love
it.
When I’m done with you, it’ll be everything to you. A drug. You’ll live for
the
next
fuckin
’ orgasm.”

Her
elbows bend; her arms start to fall. Her pussy’s puffy and swollen. She’s
feelin
’ it inside now. “Keep your hands up, babe.”

I
take my hand off her mouth and cup her tit, wet with tears that have
dripped
off her face. I roll her nipple between my
finger
and thumb. Slowly, I grind my cock against her ass, making her hips rock
with
me while I finger fuck her. She’s breathing harder now, relaxing against me,
her knees bending with the motion.

Her
breath hitches, and I move my hand down to rub her clit. “Let it happen,
babe.
Ain’t
no shame in coming for me.”

“No,”
she whispers, jolting upright and locking her knees.

“Can’t
stop it.” I push and pull my fingers in and out of her faster, rub her clit
in
circles at the same time.

“No!
No!” she cries out, pulsing and throbbing around my fingers as she comes.
“No,”
she sobs, dropping her chin to her chest and letting her arms fall. Her body
goes slack in my arms, and I lower her to the floor, leaning her back
against
the wall.

I
crouch beside her and squeeze my cock. “We have a long day ahead of us,
babe,
so don’t fight it. You did good.”

I
stand and glance over at Randy, lounging on the mattress on the floor jerkin
’
off. “Hurry the fuck up. Your turn,” I tell him.

He
stands up,
strokin
’ his cock, and walks over to
the
bitch. “Open your mouth,” he says.

I
shove him back. “Not time for that shit yet. This one’s not gonna fight.
Some
you take a hammer to, some you can pry apart with your hands. This bitch don
’t
need no hammer.”

He
glares at me, but says, “Fine,” and steps up in front of her. “Wrap those
little fingers around my cock and finish me off, bitch,” he says.

Her
eyes skitter up to me. I nod. Her hands shake as she lifts them up and holds
his cock in her fists. She starts jerking her arms back, and she’s got a
death
grip on his shaft. “Fuck,” he says, whipping a hand down and smacking her
across the face. “Bitch, don’t you know how to jerk a man off?”

She
puts a hand to her cheek. It’s red, the outline of Randy’s fingers visible.
“Don’t
fuckin
’ hit her,” I say, taking her hand.
“Do
it again,” I tell her. “Don’t grip so tight.”

I
unbuckle my belt and drop my jeans to my knees; my stiff, heavy cock hangs
free. “Like this, babe” I say, taking my cock in hand.

Her
chest jerks with silent sobs, but she takes Randy’s cock in her hand and
looks
to me for approval. I nod and start stroking my length, taking in a hiss of
breath between my teeth. She mimics me, stroking Randy. “Not too tight,” I
tell
her, “let him slide in your hand.”

Randy
leans forward, hovering over her, and rests his palms against the wall.
“Talk
to her,” I tell him. “Tell her what to do.”

“Little
faster,” he says. “Yeah. Like that. Rub my balls, bitch.”

She
does what he says, but keeps her eyes on me, watching me work my hand up and
down my cock. The bitch already looks to me as her master.

“Fuck
yeah,” Randy says. “Faster.” He shoves his hips forward. Her eyes leave mine
and watch her own hands stroking Randy, squeezing his sac. Her little tits
bobble up and down. Her lips part as she concentrates, her pink tongue
pushing
against her bottom lip.

Randy
pants and groans.

My
vision blurs around the edges.

He
comes, spurting come out onto her chest and neck.

The
pressure’s too much to hold back. I let it go, throwing my head back and
groaning as my cock twitches and contracts, my come splattering the
floor.

When
I catch my breath, Randy’s tucked back into his pants and lighting a smoke.
The
bitch is huddled against the wall with both hands over her face. I pull my
jeans back up and go to her. “You did good, babe,” I say, hands on hips
looking
down at her. “We’ll take a break for a minute. Let you get your head
together.”

She
looks up at me, all red eyes and tears through her fingers. “What are you
going
to do to me?”

“This
week, we violate you every way you can think of and some you’ve never had
the
nerve to. Next week, we hand you over to your new owner.”

Tears
slip through her fingers and drip from her chin. “What will he do to me?”

“Whatever
he wants, babe.”

I
turn to Randy. “Leave her alone for a little while. I’m going to find the
prez
, give him an update.”

“Sure,”
he says, collapsing back onto the bed with his fingers linked behind his
head.
“I got this.”

Butch
is in his office off of the room where church is held, stuffing a donut into
his mouth. The black rings around his eyes tell of a sleepless night spent
worrying about business. “We’re golden, man,” I say, sitting on the worn
leather couch against his wall and rubbing my eyes. “We got a docile bitch.
We’ll make the delivery date.”

“Thank
fuck,” he says, wadding up his napkin and tossing it into the trash. “Where’
s
Randy? You shoot him?”

“Not
yet. He’s down with the girl.”

“You
teachin
’ him how it’s done?”

I
shrug and pull a joint out of my pocket. “He might be better suited to
snatchin
’ bitches than
workin
’
them over in the basement.”

He
watches me light the weed and take a hit. “He’ll catch on,” he
says.

He
grabs a remote off his desk and turns on the TV. A news channel blares
background noise as he moves his attention from me to his computer. I take
another hit and lean my head back against the cushions, watching the
anchorman
go live to the scene of a fire.

I
blow the smoke out of my lungs and close my eyes for a second. Next the
bitch
in the basement will need to either be trained on forced oral or anal. It’s
still early for forced oral. I think she’s tame enough, but don’t want to
risk
getting my dick bitten off. Maybe I’ll make Randy do that.

I
chuckle to myself and open my eyes just as a photo flashes onto the TV
screen.

It’s
fuckin
’ Lilith.

“Turn
it up,” I say. “Butch.” I point to the screen.

“That’s
the bitch you took out into the desert,” he says, raising the
volume.

“…both
tied up inside the house,” the reporter’s saying, “when it was set ablaze at
approximately ten p.m. last night. Investigators at the scene confirm that
gasoline was used as the accelerant. Friends of the family say in recent
years
The Stanton’s daughter, Amber, was involved in occult activity.”
Lilith’s—Amber’s—face flashes on the screen again. “Police officials have
been
unable to locate Amber Stanton for questioning. If you have any information
about her whereabouts, please contact the local police at the number on your
screen.”