Biker Gang

Cruising along an open desert road on her bike, Yang spies a gas station up ahead and realizes her tank is nearing empty. She pulls into the lot to find about two dozen men lounging about on their own motorcycles and choppers, all of them grizzled old men with dirty clothes and large figures, muscular or just big-boned. They all acknowledge her arrival, but with demeaning whistles and catcalls.

"How's the ride, hot stuff?" "Who ordered the stripper?" "Wanna ride on something a little bigger, girl?"

She ignores them all with a huff before pulling ahead to start refueling before one of them pulls up between her and the pumps. "Slow it down there, Missy. We only let legit grease monkeys fuel up here." He told her with a confident smirk as he leaned back on his bike. "Y'better run along ahead to whatever ice cream social you're heading for...or are you heading for a nightclub in that getup?"

Yang's eyes narrowed as she got off her bike, marched up to his side and grabbed him by the jacket collar. "Just what are you trying to say, you piece of-" She was prepared to keep going off on him before she heard the sounds of the other bikers' engines revving up, looking over her shoulder to see some of them were pulling out baseball bats, knives, even lengths of chains.

"Easy now, Blonde Babe." The biker in her grip commented with a dismissive hand wave and the others relaxed a little. "If you're that pissed, how about ya prove me wrong with a quick little race? We got another place just five miles down the road, get there before me and we'll let ya fill 'er up free of charge."

Yang raised an eyebrow at the curious offer. "And if you actually manage to win?" She asked condescendingly, unable to see through his sunglasses that his gaze trailed down her body to the valley of her breasts.

"You'll be our gang's new bitch ****. Not that you'd ever lose, huh?"