Assassins MC Pt. 10

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise showed, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this story are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Part 10 Three Goldilocks, A Bear, and Penny

It was Thanksgiving the following week, and we all were invited over to Roger's house for a big Thanksgiving dinner. Our school let out for the entire week, and while Julie and Nicole fished up their training, Beth and I carried out the move. We called the movers; they picked up everything from both houses and set up the new house in a day. This specific moving company was owned by Santana, and I'm sure furniture wasn't the only thing they transported.

We all set up the house. Beth and Nicole had their own rooms, with me and Julie in the master bedroom. We had contractors knock out a few walls that expanded both women's rooms, and each had a bathroom. I was surprised all the construction, which started Monday, was finished by Wednesday. Again, the company was owned by Santana and we must have had 30 men working on it. Beth went around barking out orders and ensuring everything was getting done correctly. Every worker addressed her as 'ma'am,' and kept her happy; she had a lot of power at Santana. I pictured both Nicole and Julie in their positions getting this respect, and I was sure they would revel in it.

Each woman decorated their room, with Julie decorating ours. New furnishings were delivered on Wednesday, and by dinner on Wednesday night, which we ordered in, everything would be set up. Both Nicole and Beth combined on decorating the common areas and the kitchen, with Julie not interested except for our room. Out of the six rooms, three were spoken for. I told the ladies to leave one room for me and set the other 2 up as guest rooms. The basement was also mine. They were to do nothing with it. I set up that one guestroom as my office, decking it out with a nice desk, computer, large screen TV, and of course video games. Not that I would have much time to play. I had some good ideas for the basement.

On Monday, I went to a meeting with Roger. He told me Nicole and Julie needed to get a taste of some privileges of their new life; it wasn't just about obedience. He told me to get them a new car. In the afternoon, I went by the tattoo parlor and finished my ink.

I wanted to surprise them, so I had them wear blindfolds on our way to the dealership. We went to one that specializes in sales to the Assassins. Buying expensive cars with cash stands out too much, so this company takes the cash, but they do the paperwork to make it look like it is paid for on a loan. It was a nice dealership, but we wouldn't be shopping from their normal stock.

When we arrived, Nicole and Julie looked confused. I told them they would each be getting a new car. They were in shock, and they hugged me, jumping up and down, celebrating together. They started walking around the showroom looking at all the models, but I stopped them and waved my hand and said, "These are not the cars you're looking for!" Yes, I know, I'm a geek!

We walked out of the main showroom, following the manager, and entered what looked like an old garage. Inside were the cars they would choose from. I was told these cars were legal but had their paperwork and registrations adjusted to make it seem like we were paying less than $30 thousand each. There wasn't a car in there less than $50 thousand, and when the ladies saw them, I thought they were going to faint.

The garage was large, most of the space occupied by around fifty cars. They had most of the expensive makes and models available, in a variety of colors, and even some top end imports. In one corner of the garage was a sitting area, with a couch, two reclining chairs, a coffee table, and a wet bar. The area was on a large carpet, making it look like someone's sitting room at home. The garage was well lit, but the lights were lower in the sitting area, creating a nice, relaxed atmosphere. I grabbed a drink from the bar and watched the women in their quest to choose the perfect vehicle.

Nicole and Julie looked around for about an hour, climbing through, and around, all the models. They would compare notes on one, go to the next, and repeat the process. I sat in a recliner and watched them inspect each car. The manager answered their questions and just made sure they were happy while ensuring I was comfortable. After an hour, they made their decisions.

Nicole chose a red luxury four-wheel-drive SUV; she did like the color red. It had all the modern features it could hold, and the price was more than I had ever seen in my life. Julie wasn't as fancy. She chose a black off-road four-wheel drive with oversized tires, again, loaded with all the features, but about $30 thousand less than her mother's. These fit their personalities. Nicole was refined yet adventurous, and Julie was 100% off-road. After they made their decisions, the paperwork was complete. The company had all the financial information, and no money had to change hands. After they cleaned the cars one last time and gassed them up, we drove off. I still had my old car and was feeling a little left out. I didn't know it yet, but I wouldn't feel left out for long.

The next day, Roger told me to head out to meet the Assassin's leader, John. I was nervous as I drove to the address. It was a little way outside of town, an old salvage yard named Peterson Salvage. I walked inside and asked for John by name. Inside looked like the reception area for a mechanic, and the walls were a mixture of dirty white paint and grease. The occasional pin-up calendar hung around the room with scantily clad women. Everything in the room appeared dirty and smelled of motor oil and lava soap, except for the floors. The tile floors were shiny, standing out in contrast with the rest of the room. What is it with the Assassins and shiny floors?

The man behind the counter stood up, and it surprised me when he stood there looking down at me. At 6'2 I didn't have to look up at many people, but this guy had to be almost 7 feet tall. He was also about 7 feet wide, or so it seemed. He had some weight on him, but he also had some muscle; I would not have messed with him for anything. He wore the largest set of blue coveralls I have ever seen, and he had his name on the right pocket.

He introduced himself. "You must be Rich. My name is Kevin, but everyone calls me Bear."

I could see why. I just hope he didn't eat me!

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Rich." Bear said. "Everyone thought highly of your father. He was an exceptional guy, and I could tell you some stories!"

With this, he pulled down his coveralls to show me his upper arm. On it was an Assassins club tattoo. It was weathered, and a bit faded, and looked like this guy had seen some years in the sun. I thought for a second, then lifted my arm and showed him mine.

"Well damn, isn't that thing shiny! You're just a baby!" Bear teased me.

He laughed aloud and pulled his coveralls back up over his shoulders and buttoned them up. He came around the counter and shook my hand.

"It's damn good to have you as a brother." Bear told me with a smile. "Follow me."

We walked outside and jumped into a golf cart. We drove out of the front area and went through some gates. When we entered the actual salvage yard, my jaw dropped. On a plot of land that must have extended about one-half mile and a quarter-mile in width sat more cars than I thought existed. They all seemed broken down, some older than others. They were stacked 3 high in some areas, and there were gaps about 10 feet across that I guess counted as roads that separated the cars, moving out at 90-degree angles from the main road. It looked like a great set to film an apocalyptic movie. There were floodlights along the walls and down the main road. This place must look menacing at night.

We drove by a huge compactor next to a crane with a giant magnet at the end of the arm. When we had driven to the back, he took a sharp right, and we approached a steel gate. He got out, used his security card against a keypad, entered his code, and the gates swung open. We drove into a courtyard that ended in a two-story building. A large metal fence that must have been 20 feet tall surrounded us, topped with razor wire, and I noticed cameras ringing the entire compound.

The place was landscaped neatly, with trees around and in front of the building, and trimmed bushes lining the walkway. If you removed the large fence and the razor wire, this would make a nice country club. Outside the fence were trees, nothing but trees, as far as the eye could see. I could smell the pine, and squirrels were running around playing with each other, jumping from tree to tree. The building looked like a hunting lodge, with most of the front covered in wood to make it look like a large log cabin. They painted the sides brown but revealed a traditional concrete design, and there were windows on both the first and second floors spread out on every side I could see. We walked up to the front door and Bear repeated the process of card and code. Once it buzzed, we entered.

They decorated the open room we walked into in wood. The walls were wood; the furniture was wood; the decorations were wood, and most of all, it smelled like wood. There were animal heads mounted around the room and hunting rifles mounted to the walls. A set of stairs led up just to the right of us, and doors were on the left wall and in front of us, and it had the signature Assassin shiny floor. What my eyes caught next made me pause.

Coming down the stairs was a blonde woman in a leather suit. The suit was so tight you could see every curve she had. Leather covered every inch of her body, except her breasts and vagina. There were holes perfectly situated that let her breasts hang naturally, and a slit, starting at the bottom of her abdomen, that went between her legs and up her ass to her waist. She wore a pair of stilettos that were at least 4 inches high and was walking as if on a tightrope as she came down slowly.

When she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, I could see her face better. She was a beautiful woman, above average, but not quite model material. She had blue eyes and nice, full lips. Her face bore an expression of emptiness; she was here, but her mind was elsewhere. I tried to catch any perfume she was wearing, but I came up empty. Her makeup was minimal and appeared to be up on quickly, with little care.

"Hello gentlemen, how can I help you," the woman asked.

Bear answered, "Sandra, Rich is here to see John. Can you get him?"

"Right away, sir." Sandra answered.

With that, Sandra walked back up the stairs and disappeared.

"Holy shit Kevin, err, Bear. What was she wearing?" I asked, astounded by what I saw.

Bear let out a huge laugh and patted me on the back. "Bet you've seen nothing like that, huh? John likes his women ready all the time. Sandra's not the only one; he has about 10 women here, but you'll probably not see them all. He likes to have fun with them. They're probably tied up around the building in various poses. He calls them his works of art. Pretty kinky shit. I don't get into that myself but to each his own."

I looked up, and a man was walking down the stairs. He stood about 6' tall and was of a slighter build than the other bikers I have met. He wasn't a slouch, but lacked the muscles most of the men had. His hair was thinning out some, and you could see he was getting bald on the sides. He was clean-cut, not what I was expecting. His hair was still black, but his beard and mustache were both gray, neatly trimmed in a goatee. He walked up to me and shook my hand. I could smell the cologne on him, and he believed in using a sizeable amount.

"Rich, it is a pleasure you meet you again." John said. "I knew you when you were just a kid. My goodness, you have grown tall. Beth must have been feeding you Miracle Grow!"

"Nice to meet you too, sir." I replied.

John released my hand and smiled. "Oh, nonsense! Call me John. You're one of my brothers now, and as close as I was to you Dad, I consider you family."

"I will John." I answered, "Quite the place you have here. Is this where you live?"

"Oh, no." John said, "I have a house in the next town, and a few more scattered around the country. This is where I conduct business."

"Is Sandra part of your business?" I asked.

He let out a laugh. "Rich, you are too funny. Liked what you saw, huh? No, Sandra is just part of my entertainment. She's one of the women who failed out of our training program. We didn't have a use for her in the company, and I tell them to give me the first pass before they're sold. I pick out the women that I want and use them for a while. After I tire of them, they get sold and I pick more. That way I never get bored."

Well, that was harsh. John talked like these women were not even human beings, but playthings. I wondered what these women's childhoods must have been like, and the years spent dreaming of what they would become, only to end up here as John's entertainment. The more I went down this road, the worse I felt. I had to get that out of my head and do what the women suggested; harden myself to these feelings or they would end up destroying me.

"Follow me and we'll get down to business." John told us.

We walked back up the stairs. When we approached the door at the top of the stairs, a desk sat outside of it. Behind the desk was a woman not dressed like Sandra. She wore a conservative blouse, had brunette hair, and I would guess her age was around 45. She was attractive, in a mom sort of way. She smiled when we approached and seemed pleasant. Her desk was scattered with nicknacks and pictures of children I assumed were her kids. She had a computer in front of her with a sticker 'I hate Mondays' on the back of the monitor. She could have been a secretary at any of the millions of offices around the world.

"This is my wife, Brenda." John introduced us. "She's club associated and is one of the women I am the guardian for. She's been with me since we formed the company, and to be honest, she's my right hand."

She stood up and shook my hand. She told me she also knew my father, and she was always fond of him. It seemed John didn't treat all the women like Sandra. He didn't seem like an evil guy, and I wondered how he justified treating the women like Sandra as he did and Brenda with respect. Would I end up like John, treating my women well only to abuse all the others? Would I come to view them as toys? Would the club require that of me?

We stepped into his office. John decorated it like a standard office with a large oak desk, a leather couch and chairs, and a table off on the side set up with 6 chairs and an enormous wardrobe. He had pictures on the walls of what appeared to be him after many successful hunts. More animal heads were mounted here, along with a few hunting rifles. The office was awash with sunlight by large windows on two of the walls, and where the light wasn't bright enough, table lamps and overhead hanging lights took over.

Sandra was standing to the right of his desk, her hands behind her and her legs spread shoulder length apart. She was staring straight ahead and didn't seem to take notice as we walked in. She was vacant and just stood there with no expression. My mind wandered, wondering what could have brought her here, and why, with her looks, would she be one step away from being sold. I had to pull myself out of my head again when John spoke up.

"Have a seat, gentleman." John told us, "Sandra, go get us some drinks and fetch us two more women."

Sandra, without acknowledging John, rushed back out the door.

"So Rich, I'm sure Roger filled you in on what we do and what's expected of you." John began, "I wanted to welcome you to the club, and you can count on seeing me at least a few times a year. We all get together in different places for a rally. All the members come with their women and it's like a big reunion, and we have that at least once a year. This club has grown so big, and we've become so structured, that I like to remind everyone that at our heart we are still the Assassin Bikers. I never want you to lose sight of that."

John got up, walked to a wardrobe on the side of the room, and pulled out a leather vest. "Rich, I think this should fit you. We've had it altered with measurements provided by Beth."

I took the vest and looked at it. It was black, and on the front was the name Assassins across the top of the left pocket. Across the right pocket was the name Diablo. It had the Assassins patch, a large A, in front of a sniper's reticle, with 'Assassins Motorcycle Club' around the edge. On the back was a large version of the front patch, this time with a skull in the background. I suppose all bikers had to have a skull somewhere. The vest was sleeveless and snapped up the front. I put it on, and it fit perfectly.

"That looks great, Rich." John said. "That was your father's vest."

I quickly took it off and inspected it. It looked a little weathered, but I doubt if it was his first vest. Looking closer, I saw it had some wear spots. I just stood there feeling it and looking at it for a minute.

"Take your time, Rich, I understand." John informed me. "I lost my dad when I was young as well. That led me into a lot of trouble, and long story short is how I found the Assassins. Your father and I joined pretty much at the same time and came up as brothers. I use that name a lot, but he was like a brother to me. You look so much like him I had to do a double-take when you put on that vest."

"Thank you, John." I answered, "It sounds like everyone loved him. How can I measure up to that? I'm just a kid. I don't think I should wear this."

"Nonsense." John replied. "He would have wanted you to have it. That was his biker name, Diablo. That was because he was a devil, always getting into or stirring up shit. That man could find trouble in the middle of a monastery. He liked his women also, and before he met Beth, he had a different woman each night. 'Use and lose' we used to call him. He'd have his fun. Then they were gone the next day. Beth must have cast a spell on him because, after hooking up with her, he stopped that mess. He would partake of other women, we all do, but he dedicated himself to Beth. She is one special woman, and now you're her guardian. I'm jealous of you, to be honest, but it's right you should assume your father's position."

"Beth never told me those stories." I admitted, "I didn't know my father well. He died before I could get close."

I put the vest back on. "Thank you, John, this makes me feel a little closer to him."

John, watching me, said, "We thought of putting 'little' above the Diablo because you're his son, but figured we'd leave it as is. It's a name you can grow into!"

"So, I'm Diablo now. I guess I'll have to find some trouble." I joked.

"There you go!" John answered approvingly, "It's like we have Brian back with us."

I sat back down. The door opened and in walked Sandra with two other women, both dressed like Sandra, but their hands were secured behind their backs. I noticed they were also blonde. We had three Goldilocks and a Bear! Sandra gave each of us our drink, and we sat back. She unclipped the cuffs binding the women's wrists, and we each had one woman kneel in front of us. I looked down and, holy shit; it was Sarah from the training facility last week. She was the one that sucked Roger's dick. She looked up at me and didn't seem to recognize me. She unbuckled my belt, opened my pants, and pulled my cock out. She then leaned up, put it in her mouth, and started. I noticed that she still didn't show any emotions, just doing it coldly. It felt slightly better than if I was jerking off, but not by much.