FoA Chapter 13

CCL house is a massive, gnarly mansion with a weird shape and architecture. It usually has close to thirty young women living in it, but it’s still much bigger than it needs to be. At night it’s probably a bit spooky. It’s also super old.

You follow Fang up to the door, where there’s no doorbell. Fang has to use the big, heavy knocker.

You don’t know that much about CCL. They’re famous for being very exciting and getting into lots of trouble. They’re notoriously gay, which makes for an interesting dynamic with the university being across the county line, where the bad laws are. However, the university is economically important to the town, so Gurlberg PD generally doesn’t bother students.

You’ve heard a lot of stories about CCL, and always been curious about them, but the club has kept you busy, and you never really went after college girls. You always figured they could do better than a rough, horny biker like you.

The door opens, revealing a pretty blonde in pink pajama shorts and a tight, white undershirt. She has a bowl of cereal in her hand, and she looks curious.

“Hi, Fang,” she says, looking taken aback. You watch her eyes go up and down Fang’s body in her tight, black bodysuit. “You’re looking good.”

“Thanks,” Fang replies dryly. She’s about to go on, but the girl speaks up first.

“Who’s your friend?” Now her eyes are on you.

“This is Adella.”

“Hi, Adella. I’m Hailee.” She moves her bowl to free up her hand and offers it, smiling at you.

“Hi,” you say, shaking. They seem nice here. And civilized.

“Is Amy here?” Fang asks.

“Of course.”

“Can we talk to her?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t need an appointment,” Fang says tiredly, and Hailee laughs.

“She might be busy.”

“It’s early.”

You follow Fang in, and she leads you through a huge foyer toward a big staircase. You pass a room where something’s going on. You see several girls gathered around one who’s topless and apparently tied to a chair. You stop, staring. The girl in the chair has a ball gag in her mouth, and tears running down her cheeks. They girls are putting big, scary-looking clamps on her nipples.

“Just a little light hazing,” Hailee says to you.

“Right,” you reply, tearing your eyes away and focusing, trying not to listened to the muffled groaning from the other room. Of course, looking at Hailee’s perfect, apple-shaped rear end in those shorts as she climbs the stairs isn’t any less distracting.

She takes you down a long, winding hallway upstairs, full of antique furniture and paintings. This place is weird, but kind of cool. There is, of course, some kind of passionate, gasping sex going on behind at least one of the doors that you pass, and when you look over your shoulder you see something that makes you stop again.

“What’s wrong?” Fang asks you.

“I think I just saw a naked girl back there,” you say.

“What’d she look like?” Hailee asks.

“Skinny. Asian,” you say.

“That’s the ghost. CCL house is haunted,” Hailee tells you.

“Really?”

“No. It’s just Sun. You guys coming or not?”

She takes you to a door, which she pauses to knock on, taking a bite of cereal.

“Yeah?” someone calls from inside.

“Biker chicks are here,” Hailee replies.

“What?”

“Biker chicks.”

“Which ones?”

“Fang!”

There’s a pause. “Um, OK,” the girl inside says.

Hailee shrugs at Fang, then walks away. “Nice seeing you. I like your Catwoman cosplay,” she adds.

Fang shows her middle finger, then opens the door. It’s a huge bedroom, and it seems to double as an office. There’s a big, heavy, wooden desk like an executive would have—but like everything else in the house, it’s old and well-used.

A girl sits at the desk, wearing a big, comfy Star Wars t-shirt. She has an open laptop in front of her and some papers, along with an open bottle of beer and her phone, which is playing music. Her skin is pale, but her long hair is dark. There’s a touch of pink in her cheeks as Fang approaches the desk.

“Amy,” she says.

“Fang,” Amy replies. She seems out of breath. “What’s going on?”

“I need Cynthia,” Fang tells her bluntly.

Amy seems to take that in. She’s having trouble concentrating. You both watch her take a hasty swig from her bottle of beer.

“For what?”

“I just do.”

“You want her to do something illegal?” Amy asks. She looks really intense, and keeps shifting around restlessly. It’s making you uncomfortable.

“Of course,” Fang snaps.

Amy seems to try to give her a scowl, but doesn’t succeed. She suddenly puts her head down and her shoulders shake. After a few seconds she throws her head back and lets out a big sigh.

“God,” she says, frowning at Fang. She pushes her chair back, and a girl emerges from under the desk, wiping her mouth. She’s wearing cute, lacy black lingerie and she clearly did not realize that you and Fang were here. Amy’s thighs must’ve been covering her ears. Her hair is dyed gray, but it works for her.

“OK,” Amy says, shaking off the orgasm and fanning herself with her hand. She pauses the music on her phone. “Fine. I won’t say no. Do what you want, but it’s between you and her. If she agrees, it’s your problem. She won’t work for free.”

“Nobody does,” Fang replies.

Amy gives the girl beside her a light pat on the bottom. “Take them to Cynthia. Don’t leave them alone. Keep your eye on them. Fang, whatever you do, just keep it away from here. Don’t let anything come back on my girls.”

“OK. Thank you.”

Fang is already marching back toward the door. You follow her, and the girl in her underwear catches and brushes past to lead. You’re back in the hallway.

“What was that about?” you ask Fang.

“Amy’s in charge here. We need her permission before we do anything.”

“She seems OK,” you say, staring openly at the girl leading the way. She’s not as hot as that blonde, but you aren’t picky about walking behind college girls in nice underwear. She smells amazing.

“Place is kind of empty,” you note as you walk down the hall, listening to an air conditioner cough and sputter.

“It’s summer,” Fang reminds you.

Right. The shortened summer semester is always kind of dead and quiet. The girl takes you to a room way on the other side of the house. Hailee knocked on Amy’s door, but this girl doesn’t bother with that. She just opens it, revealing a cluttered bedroom. You feel a rush of warm air. This room obviously isn’t air conditioned.

A girl wearing nothing but a sweaty pair of green briefs sits at a small desk by the open window. She turns around, looking annoyed. She’s small-breasted with dark hair in a bob, and big glasses. Her body is shiny with sweat, but she’s not doing anything lewd… her room is just stiflingly hot. She has a little fan on her desk blowing on her.

“What the hell?” she asks tiredly.

“Bikers,” the girl says.

“Fang?”

“Who else?” Fang spreads her hands, entering the room. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

“Can’t talk about it here. Computer stuff.”

This girl, who must be Cynthia, narrows her eyes. “How illegal are we talking?”

“Pretty bad,” Fang says.

“What do I get?”

“What do you want?”

Cynthia turns around in her chair to lean on the back, chewing her lip and looking thoughtful. You glance at the two computer monitors behind her. It looks like she’s doing some serious work on there. This girl must be smart.

“Two things,” she says finally. “I’m in charge of initiating some dumb pledges pretty soon. I hate doing that. You do it for me.”

“Done. How?”

“I don’t care. See which one gives the best head and make that the winner. I don’t care,” Cynthia says with a shrug. “Just take care of it. And something else.”

“What?”

“I need someplace quiet with AC to work,” she says.

“Can’t you work at school?” Fang asks.

“Not after seven,” she replies. “You guys own some buildings, right?”

“There’s room at the clubhouse, but it’s not quiet,” Fang says. “You can use my place. I’ll give you a spare key. I’m never there. It’s quiet. I have AC.”

Cynthia gazes at her. “Is it a shithole?”

“It’s not worse than this,” Fang says, putting her hand on her hip and looking around at the room, which isn’t exactly shabby, but… it’s been a long time since this house was luxurious.

“And you have a table? Not just a mattress and a Playstation?”

“Yes, I have a table,” Fang says, rolling her eyes. “Chairs too.”

“OK.” Cynthia glances at the girl who led the way. “We shouldn’t talk here. Amy wouldn’t want us talking about that stuff in the house.”

“Get your stuff.”

Cynthia grumbles a little bit, but she puts on clothes, packs a laptop into a backpack, and leaves the house with you and Fang. She eyes Fang’s sport bike for a moment, then elects to ride with you. You love having a girl on the back of your bike, even a total stranger who is a nerd and kind of grumpy. She hangs on tight as your rumble back to the clubhouse.

Inside, the party’s still going. Vicky is seated in a chair on the stage by the pole, naked except for panties, and Lotte is giving her a vigorous lap dance with her bottom. Vicky jerks and her large breasts bounce. Lotte stands up, and the crowd goes wild as a stain spreads across the bulge in Vicky’s panties. You can see the bulge throbbing as she ejaculates.

But then Fang is pushing you and Cynthia into the meeting room.

“Phone,” Fang says, and Cynthia hands hers over and sits at the table, looking moody. She twitches every time the women outside get especially loud.

“Hope the cops don’t raid you tonight,” she says.

“Me too,” Fang replies. “Let’s talk business. We need to break into the Police Station.”

“Why?”

“We have some merch in evidence. That’s all we want.”

“So you want to get into the evidence locker.”

“We need to get in and out without being on camera,” Fang says.

Cynthia sighs, wincing again as glass shatters in the bar. She glances at the wall. “We’re a small town and it’s a small department. It’s not the NSA. Their security cameras will be on whatever network the rest of their stuff is running on. I’ll have to compromise that.”

“Can’t you just do something that would kill their internet for a few minutes?” you ask.

“Won’t work,” Fang replies. “The WiFi is what sends the camera feeds to the computers, but even without WiFi the cameras are still recording. They have to actually be shut down.”

“Oh,” you say. You don’t know how any of this works.

“So I have to compromise GPD’s WiFi,” Cynthia muses. “That’s doable.”

“We also have to break in and out.”

“That’s up to you. I’m not a burglar. I can give you some tips, maybe. But I’d need information on their security. I know how to get the floor plan out of the city’s network, but you guys have to take pictures of the outside. The inside too,” she adds. “As much as you can. Then you find out who their IT person is and send me that name. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Fang says.

“One more thing. There’s four pledges. So you’ll need four chicks,” Cynthia says. “When you do the initiation.”

“Does it matter who they are?”

“I don’t care. Not the MILFs. That would be weird. And not the cave woman, either.”

“Vicky and Caroline, then.”

“Was Vicky the bimbo on the stage?”

“Yes.”

“That works. I like Caroline,” Cynthia says with a nod. “I get your apartment until Christmas.”

“I’ll still live there,” Fang says defensively.

“But I can use it? You won’t be bringing chicks home?”

Fang sighs. “I will not bring anyone home to my place until Christmas.”

“That’s a deal,” Cynthia says.

Your mind is blown that Fang is doing this, and without even hesitating. She’s making a huge commitment, and doing it all for the club. This is what a real Free Gurl is supposed to do. You never would given this chick a key and told her she could use your place, but Fang will do whatever it takes to get the job done. You have to be more like her.