FoA Chapter 7

You wake up with a very sore ass, not because you got it on with some hottie who pounded you into oblivion, but because your club is fucking ruthless with a belt when they’re pissed. You’re nude in bed, facedown with a painful erection. You reach back to touch your tender buttocks. They’re definitely sensitive, but… unlike yesterday, you think that maybe today you can… function.

You aren’t at your apartment, you’re in one of the rooms above the bar. Normally these rooms are for you know… club members to hook up with chicks from downstairs, but yesterday you were in too much pain to get on your bike. You had to sleep here.

It annoys you because you want to be at home. You want to see if that girl goes to that coffee shop every day. The pretty redhead who got you out of trouble yesterday. You dreamed about her last night. In the dream you were on a beach, and she was leading you through the surf by the hand in a blue bikini.

Kind of a basic dream, but it explains why you woke up with such a raging hard-on. If you were at home, you’d roll onto your side and just stroke it until you blew all over the sheets, but this isn’t your bed, and these aren’t your sheets. You get up and stagger to the door. The upper floor of the bar isn’t a hotel, it’s basically an apartment, so there’s only one bathroom. You head to it and open the door, only to find that it’s not empty.

Caroline is there, looking hung over as fuck, leaning on the sink, totally naked. She’s brushing her teeth, her fat cock hanging soft between her legs. Her brown skin, tight body, and cute butt is all gorgeous, but the miserable look on her face is not. She drank too much last night.

“Prospect,” she says around her toothbrush, immediately noticing your angry erection. “Better take care of that.”

You just scowl at her and brush past into the shower. Under the water, you jerk it hard and fast, thinking about Stef’s hands on your ass last night, and then having sex with Rachel the night before.

A minute later you groan as your cum swirls around the drain, and reach for whatever body wash someone has left here. You don’t have a change of clothes or anything, so you have to wear your outfit from yesterday.

Riding your bike with a sore ass is not fun. Getting home, where you can get naked, clean up again, and dress in clean clothes… that’s nice. You toast a frozen waffle and do the laundry, including that borrowed shirt.

You’ll have to return that.

But you need to get back. You slept in. Your butt still hurts, but that’s life. You can’t blame the club, only Stark. And Ellen. And yourself, but you still think you were right not to say anything. Stef understands. This happened. It’s unfortunate, but it is what it is. Stef knows you aren’t a rat. And that redhead? You owe her one.

You get yourself together and head out. It’s later in the day… if the redhead was going to be at the coffee shop, you’ve missed her. It’s hot and dry for a change, and you ride back without your helmet. It’s a beautiful day to be out on a bike with the wind in your hair. You aren’t in trouble with the club. Stuff is going on, but… all’s right with the world.

You don’t get pulled over, and you don’t see Stark anywhere.

You arrive at the bar and join the others, taking your seat at the table a little bit gently. The others show up, and today it’s still just Vicky, Caroline, Stef, Carla, Fang, Jan, and you. The club has a couple other members, but they’re away on business right now. For today… this is everyone.

“We’re fucked,” Stef announces. “We have a serious problem. Jan was found with merch worth enough that no matter how hard we lawyer up, she does time. So that’s one problem that we have to solve, because this is bullshit. However, courts take forever, so we’ll deal with that later. Right now we have to worry about having bills to pay and no merch. It’s all impounded.”

Right. Stark busted Jan with a whole van of sex toys. So not only do the cops have a good case against Jan, they also have probably… two months’ worth of stuff that the club was expecting to sell.

It’s a bad deal.

“How are we paying the bills?” Caroline asks. She’s the smartest person at the table by far.

Vicky and Stef both light up cigarettes at the same moment. Carla takes a drink from a glass of whiskey, and Jan drinks half a bottle of beer.

“I’ve done time before,” Jan says, putting her bottle down. “It’s a possession charge. We don’t have to sweat it.”

You don’t like Jan very much, but you respect her dedication to the club. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for these women. She’s tough as hell. It really pisses you off that she’s in trouble.

“We’re going to have to find that money,” Carla says frankly. “We have enough in shared cash to cover things for a week or two, but this is a hit. We have to make it up. Period,” she adds. “We have a real problem.”

“In the past, in really bad times, we’ve had club members come in to help out,” Stef says. “But we shouldn’t be doing that. We shouldn’t be having to dip into our own bank accounts for this shit. We should have our shit together. Part of that is my fault for shitty accounting. I don’t want to take it there. I don’t want to beg my club for money. We need to make something happen. Do some business. Handle our business,” she clarifies. “You hear what I’m saying?”

“Hell yeah,” Vicky says, taking a drink of beer. “What’s the score?”

“The score is these bitches that want to come in on my motherfucking town,” Stef says firmly, turning to Fang. “What you got?”

“She’s blonde.” Fang shrugs. “She’s hot. She rides a bike. She represents some club, but nobody knows which one. She has the stuff, and she’s selling it to anyone who can pay. Her name’s Ingrid. She goes to Goldfinger sometimes, but she won’t come any closer to town because she knows we’ll kick her ass.”

“We’ll kick her ass anyway,” Carla snaps. “Who does this fucking cunt think she is?”

“She wants to move in,” Stef says. “No doubt about it. Are you sure about this, Fang?”

“Yeah,” Fang replies, shrugging. “I got it from Rachel at Goldfinger.”

“You trust that little slut?” Jan asks. “She’s a fucking tease.”

Fang snorts, making a casual gesture with her hand. “I boned her.”

You feel suspicious.

“Yeah,” you say. “That daisy tattoo on her ass is cute, right?”

“Cute as hell,” Fang says.

You snort. “She doesn’t have a daisy on her ass, she has a Deathly Hallows symbol.”

The table erupts in laughter, and Fang rolls her eyes.

“Whatever,” she says.

“Yeah,” you say. “I fucked her. You tried, huh? What went wrong?”

“Fuck off, Prospect,” Fang says.

Everyone laughs, but Stef cuts in.

“Guys. I think we all understand the situation,” she says. “We have a problem. We need cash, and we need it fast.”

“The best way is to take it from these bitches coming after us,” Vicky says.

“For sure,” Jan agrees.

That sounds right to you. The cops are the ones being a pain in the dick, but the real problem is someone trying to put pressure on your operation.

“This Ingrid girl,” Stef says. “Let’s get eyes on her. Maybe get to know her a little. Find out about her outfit. Find out where she keeps her shit. All in favor?”

You raise your hand with the others. Stef is saying that you absolutely must make up for what has happened. The lost merchandise has to be replaced. Why not take it from another group that’s trying to mess with your business? It makes sense.

Everyone is in agreement.

“You know, it’s getting a little heavy here,” Jan says, finishing her beer. “Don’t make me go away dry.”

“You want the game?” Vicky asks.

“The game,” Caroline repeats, hitting the table with her fist.

You sit there, confused as several of them say it in unison: “The game. The game.” They’re banging on the table.

Stef rolls her eyes. “OK. Make it quick.”

“Make what quick?” you ask, confused.

“First time?” Fang asks you.

“The kid’s never played before,” Jan says.

“Wait, what are we playing?” you ask.

“You want to be one of us or not?” Carla asks you.

“Of course,” you say.

“Then shut up and play,” she says.

“Get the shit,” Stef says to Fang, who stands up and goes to the shelf by the table. “Add one for Adella.”

“OK,” Fang replies, opening a little jar and adding a bead to it from a bowl full of them.

“What are we doing?” you ask.

“One person’s lucky. One person’s unlucky,” Caroline murmurs to you. “That’s it.”

“OK,” you say uncertainly.

Fang brings her jar to the table and starts offering it to the others. They all reach in and take a bead, keeping it hidden in their fists. The jar comes to you. You do what they do, reaching in and taking one, then holding it in your hand, hidden.

Everyone has one.

“OK,” Stef says, looking tired. “Drop ‘em, girls.” She throws hers on the table. Everyone does the same. Yours is white, and most of the others are white as well.

Caroline’s is blue.

Stef’s is red.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jan says.

“Oh my fucking god,” Stef says, putting her face in her hand. “Un-fucking believable. I’m supposed to be the fucking prez. Fuck you guys.”

Caroline clears her throat. “Thanks, babe.”

Stef sighs. “What’ll it be, Caroline? Tits? Ass?”

Caroline smiles. “Pussy,” she says.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Oh, no. Fuck you,” Caroline says with a smile. Everyone else is cracking up. “Do it,” she presses.

Stef sighs and rolls her eyes. “Fuck this dumb game. What were we thinking?” she asks Carla, who shrugs.

“We were young,” she replies.

Stef stands up, unbuttoning her pants and pushing them down, along with her underwear, freeing her soft penis. She shoves them down to her knees, then hops onto the table.

You just watch.

Caroline walks around to get in front of her. Stef has her penis and… everything out. The other club member whistle and taunt her. Caroline smirks and unbuttons her own jeans, opening them up to free her cock.

You get it… a white bead is safe. A blue bead is the winner, and the red bead is the loser. It’s a game. You get it.

You watch as Caroline jerks her long, sexy cock. The others clap and cheer. Stef’s own erection bobs around with every move that she makes until Caroline finishes, clenching her teeth and spurting creamy strings all over Stef’s cock and pussy, coating her in cum.

“Oh,” Caroline says, stepping back, her hand still on her cock. “Oh.”

“God,” Stef says, looking down at the mess all over her pussy, cock, and belly. “Were you saving that up? Can’t get any?”

“You know you want this cock,” Caroline replies, tucking it away and buttoning up.

Stef snorts. “You mean you want this cock.” She accepts a tissue from Carla and starts to wipe herself up.

OK, so this is what they’re doing in their meetings. No matter they don’t let anyone in.

“Prospect,” Carla says.

“Yes,” you say, startled.

“You ready to get back to work?”

Your butt hurts, but yes. Of course you are. “Yes,” you say.

“I want you at Goldfinger tonight,” Carla says. “Find this bitch, Ingrid. Get us something on her.”

“You got it,” you say.