My Boring, Shitty Life Ch. 17

RoninMaximus Presents: My Boring, Shitty Life 17

Riley is just starting out in life, he's still in high school and starting to find himself. He's prospecting for a motorcycle club, wearing his grandfather's legacy cut, has a dragon tattoo, started building relationships with the women around him, and gotten into a few fights. Things will continue heat up bit by bit and as always, all characters mentioned are over the age of eighteen. This is a work of fiction.

The night following the lingerie party, I was helping the club at the local fair grounds again. It had been a quiet, family friendly night, and I was enjoying showing the little kids our motorcycles. Throughout the event I saw a bunch of faces that I recognized, my dad on a date with some unknown woman, my school nurse, a couple coaches from school, our new principal, and of course Brett and his entourage. Roxie and Martin were there, along with Heather, Heather Sinclaire, Michelle, and a few of Brett's goons. I noted that Bianca was nowhere around and idly wondered about that, but kept myself busy for the night by helping the club.

Shortly after the official closing time, as everyone packed up, I broke away from the club to go and find a porta-john. They were off in a secluded corner, and the generators running the lights in that area had already been cut off. Finishing my business, I was using the foot pump mechanism to wash my hands when I heard a scream.

It was a brief sound, clipped, and as I looked around, nobody else seemed to be nearby for me to ask if they'd heard it too. Investigating halfheartedly, I thought maybe I had heard wrong, but I came upon a back entrance for one of the 'scary' rides and saw that a lock wasn't bolted, even though all the other doors were.

I turned away, figuring I would let a staff member know, but stopped short when I heard another yelp, closer this time, and followed by a short slapping noise. There was no mistaking that the voice was female, and all the lights were off for the ride, so there was no reason for anyone to be inside. I sent a quick text to Twit and Crybaby, telling them I'd be right back but I was over by the restrooms.

I opened the door slowly, not wanting to announce my presence if anything actually WAS wrong, and crept inside slowly. Turning the first corner, I felt two things. Relief, that I had trusted my gut, and rage, as I saw what was happening in the small room.

My eyes fell on the pale girl's. She was desperate, pleading, and disheveled. Her arms were secured in front of her by a belt, and stretched fully over the table she was bent over. Another belt stretched her jaw open, but something must've been stashed behind it, because her pleading was muffled. She was terrified when she caught sight of me, a newcomer to this clearly horrible event. Tears fell down her scrunched up face as the man behind her thrust himself into her from behind, his hands digging into her hips roughly.

The facts weren't known to me at the time, but I thought that it could possibly, maybe, be a consensual encounter. Her eyes begged to differ, and I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I walked away without knowing. Consensual or otherwise, I couldn't sit idly by, and from what I knew about Heather Sinclaire, she wasn't the casual BDSM encounter type, and this guy was at least twenty years older than us.

He was fat, balding, and frog-like in his appearance. All the makings of your classic carnival degenerate, complete with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and the stench of alcohol pouring off of him.

I had seen enough, and stepped forward to confront the man and get Heather Sinclaire away from the situation. That's when I saw the baseball bat swing in front of my face.

I woke up groggily, not knowing why my head hurt so much, and couldn't identify where I was. Everything was dark, my head was ringing, and I was alone. I knew I was indoors, but there was no light pointing me to an exit, so I spent a few minutes wandering around aimlessly, searching for a light switch or a door I could use.

I found a door first. As I opened it, the moonlight from above lit the area up perfectly, making everything seem so much brighter than that horrible dark room. Horrible?

My eyes fell on a couple guys loading something heavy and wrapped in a tarp into a truck nearby. The first one was tall and lean, with a long white beard and a mess of curly salt and pepper hair. The second guy was short and fat, balding and slimy. He reminded me of a frog.

Our eyes met and everything came flooding back to me. I knew in an instant what they were loading into that truck, and they knew that I knew. I took off in another direction, running out of sight as soon as I saw the skinny guy pull out a pistol. I sprinted towards my bike, and shouted for Twit and Crybaby.

They looked up at me curiously, seeing me bloodied up and running around like a madman waving my hands. They started their bikes up before I even reached them. "911! Call everyone! Get them on the roads looking for that Ford!" I yelled at them, taking off and following the passing truck, maintaining a good hundred yard distance. "They've got a girl they were raping! Hit me with a bat! They've got a gun!"

Twit and Crybaby fell in behind me and together we pursued the truck. Crybaby gave the news over the phone and kept someone on the line providing real-time updates as we went.

The truck came up on a bunch of bikers blocking off the road in just a matter of minutes. Guns drawn, and daring the two men to make the wrong move.

I parked behind the truck and discovered that my tail had gotten bigger. Rhett nodded, as he parked next to the president of our rival MC behind me. I guess kidnapping a local was seen as common cause in the MC world.

I came up to the truck bed, covered, and locked, before walking up to the driver's side window and growling through it. "Keys! Now!" I said, keeping an eye on the gun sitting on the dash.

I watched as the skinny guy fumbled in doing as I told. The idiot tried to push they keys straight through the glass before figuring out that he'd have to lower it. He cracked it just enough to drop them out onto the ground, but I stared patiently at him in response. He looked scared, and rightfully so, as I looked down intently and then back up at him, still holding out my hand. Twit joined the passenger on the other side. "Both of you, get the fuck out! Now!" He told them, his shotgun aiming into the cab.

Bodies shaking, the two men climbed out. I stepped back, giving the skinny guy just enough room and kept my hand outstretched. He got the picture.

As soon as he knelt down to retrieve the keys, I kicked his shoulder and pinned him to the truck before grabbing the truck door and slamming it on his head repeatedly.

Over on the other side, I heard Twit giving the frog man a makeover of his own, but I was focused. Every whimper, crunch, crack, and smush was music to my ears. I didn't feel bad when he crumbled to the ground. I kicked him as he lay there, my head and heart pounding, but still I pressed onward.

I stopped when his whimpering stopped, then stepped on his bloody face as I retrieved the keys from the ground.

Heather Sinclaire had never looked so beautiful as the moment I realized she was still alive. I clutched her to my chest, waiting for Bear to bring my/his old truck around. We cried together, her hanging on to me desperately, as we were driven to the hospital.

The police questioned me at the hospital, then again with my dad and a lawyer present at the police station. They warned me about acting like a vigilante, and my lawyer answered that my actions were only in defense of the victim. "You should be thanking my client. Not pestering him with accusations."

The detective nodded, holding up his hands. "You're not wrong, and everyone here knows he did a good thing. We just don't want him getting himself hurt-"

"Regardless, either produce a charge or we're leaving." My lawyer replied.

We left soon after.

Rhett held a Pow Wow the next day, getting input from the other senior club members, and then shaking his head 'no' when they came out. I wasn't allowed to be a full member yet.

I saw on the news that one of the rapists had died in the hospital, but the doctors were able to revive him. Too bad.

Heather Sinclaire was absent at school, which didn't come as a surprise. Darcy told me I should probably go see her at home to make sure she was okay, but I shut her down.

The rumor mill was abuzz with speculation about what happened. Most of it was sympathetic, but one anonymous user commented that the slut had it coming. It pissed me off to no end, but I didn't have a way to know who had said it, so I didn't have anyone to vent my frustrations on.

That was probably why Martin's antics got to me, leading me to detention, and him to the nurse. I sat alone quietly, waiting out my time when Roxie joined my table. "I can't believe him!" She told me.

"Martin?" I asked.

"He was supposed to meet my parents tonight. Then he goes and starts messing with you, now look at him. Ugh. You think I want him to meet my parents now?"

I shrugged.

"I know he's buddy buddy with Brett, but still! He knows how I feel about him. He knows I don't want him around. Did you know Brett made a pass at me?"

I shrugged again. "Sounds like Brett."

"Martin didn't even care, I told him Brett was trouble."

"That's for sure. Why do you put up with it?"

It was Roxie's turn to shrug. "I figure he'll outgrow him eventually. He's actually a decent guy if you can get to know him alone."

I think she knew I wasn't convinced.

"Really though, I just wish everyone wasn't so in awe of Brett all the time. Ugh. I hate high school."

"Me too. But, I think you're wrong about Martin." I told her, remembering the video that Darcy had sent me.

"How come?" She asked.

"Just call it a hunch." I told her, making my way to the front as the bell rang.

I waved at Ms. Duchette and her sister as I pulled into my driveway. The two women smiled and waved in return before Ms. Duchette jogged across the street, greeting me as I removed my helmet. "Riley." She said, amused.

"Figured it out, huh? Doesn't that kill the allure for you?"

"Not really. It's still pretty hot to be seducing my young neighbor." She chuckled.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Frankie and I are going out of town to see our parents. I was wondering if you could keep an eye on my place while we're gone."

I shrugged. "Sure thing. When do you get back?"

"Couple days. Maybe a week?"

"You got it."

"I'll make it worth your while." She purred promisingly.

"Anything for you Ms. Duchette."

I tried calling Heather Sinclaire, knowing Darcy wouldn't let me live it down if I didn't. Besides, I was really worried about her. She didn't answer, so I moved on to homework and then some video games once I had finished. Dad came home and grumbled about his day as we ate dinner. I wasn't really clear as to what my father's work was, but it kept him busy and the bills were paid. He always referred to it as consulting work, whatever that meant.

The doorbell rang as I was finishing with the dishes, it was some petite young woman with an impressive rack that I'd never met who asked for my father. She waited outside while I called him over. "Are you Marcus Stephens?" She asked.

"Yeah, how can I-"

"You've been served." She told him, handing over a manilla folder and walking away with a grin on her face. Her hips swayed, showing off her near-perfect ass in her jeans.

Dad ignored my confused look, leaving it at, "it's nothing," and walking upstairs to his room.

I got ready to close the door, but noticed the process server admiring my bike in the driveway. She looked over to me and smiled. Who was I to deny that look?

"Want to go for a ride?" I asked, walking over. "I was just about to head out anyway, but I get cold riding alone."

"Well... I did take the bus here. Maybe you could take us to my place? I've never ridden a motorcycle before."

I smirked at her, holding out my helmet. "There's a good girl." I commented, watching her put it on.

She held me close as I took off, keeping me warm just as I'd asked.

We pulled up to the club, rowdy tonight just like any other. "Let's get a beer." I told her.

A few of the members nodded at me, blatantly checking out the hot process server following behind.

"Here." I offered, handing over a cold bottle. "I'll drink it if you don't."

She smirked at me, finishing half of it on the first swig. "I think I can handle it." She challenged, glancing around at our surroundings and taking everything in.

"We won't be here long." I told her, walking ahead to aquatint myself with the night's activities. She sipped quietly as I made my way, generally ignoring her, but keeping her close at hand.

Bully gave me an amused look, before getting in my face. "Past your bedtime isn't it?"

I nodded, "I like to rebel."

He threw his arm around me, laughing. "Guess it can't be helped Twerp. Why don't you leave the dame with me and go fetch us all a couple drinks."

I know my place in the hierarchy basically demanded that I listen to him, but I untangled myself, shaking my head. "Not tonight Bully."

"Oh?" He asked. "That wasn't a question Fuckwit. Go get me a beer."

I took a step away from him. "I'm not in the mood Bully." I walked over to my date. "Let's go."

We got to my bike, but I felt his presence and ducked right on time. Bully swung and missed, so I stepped up to him, closing the gap. "FUCK OFF BULLY!" I yelled, ignoring the crowd gathering around.

He stood up straight, squaring off with me as my date perched herself on my bike. I could see that she was loving the excitement by the look in her blue doe like eyes.

I was building up a steady stream of angst over the past few days, and Bully was really pressing my buttons. That's probably why I lost it. My head just wasn't in the right place, and I just didn't care. Funny thing was, my head WAS in the right place just a second later. Crashing into Bully's nose just before I started throwing punches. A smarter brawler would've seen it coming, but Bully wasn't exactly smart, just vicious.

Sure, I knocked him off his feet. Sure, I straddled his chest, and rained down on him from above. Sure, I drew blood and caught him off guard. But this was Bully, and he was still out of my league.

The fucker was actually grinning at me, as he threw me to the side and crawled on top of me. When he started hitting me though, each punch was two-fold. First his fist hit me, then my head would bounce on the pavement. It was disastrously disorienting, and my hands just fell to my sides limply.

Tess probably saved me from the worst of it. She and one of the guys managed to pull him off of me as I laid on the ground. I didn't even know my own name for a minute there, and my head was ringing. I'd have preferred the baseball bat.

One of the members got me sitting up and talking, trying to gauge the damage. It took a moment, but I finally got my bearings and stood up, surprising a few of the onlookers. "Next time Bully! I almost had you."

Bully laughed, "we'll see Kid. I wouldn't count on it."

They wanted me to stick around for a bit so I could recover, but I begged off with a shake of my head. "I'm fine." I told them, rejoining my impromptu date. "I'll see you all later." I said, revving up my bike and taking off.

We made it to her place without further incident, and she pulled me inside roughly. "That was intense!" She told me, shoving me down on the couch and kneeling to take my shoes off. "Is it always like that around you?"

"More or less." I replied, cupping her neck and pulling her face down into my lap. Her hands worked quickly to undo my jeans and I groaned as she took me into her mouth. I gripped her hair and guided her up and down, basking in the relaxation as she tried to inhale my cock with her throat.

She gagged herself before pulling back. "I don't know if you're into it, but could you bring me along again sometime?"

"Maybe. Just shut up and suck my cock. I've got a headache."

I swear her eyes rolled back in her head in rapture at my demand. Relaxing into the couch, I half-forced this unknown woman to fellate me for almost an hour. I'd never known a woman to bask in submission the way that she did. By the time I was ready to move on, she was starving for my cock in her pussy.

"Come on pet. Climb on. Let's see how you ride." Her speed at disrobing impressed me even just thinking about it. She was petite, and curvaceous, and she fit me like a tight glove. I could feel her juices drenching me as she purred upon my entry.

Her body melted into mine as her tongue worked on my ear. "Oh yes. So good baby. I want your cum inside of me. Please? I'll be so good to you."

I didn't even know this woman, but her words were lighting a fire in me as I gripped her hips. Her pussy was clinging to my cock like it never wanted to let go. "I'll be your slut baby." She coo'd. "I'll do anything you want. Fuck. So good. I've never c-cum. Never cum. Like this. OH GOD!"

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tight and unleashing my load inside of her just like she asked. "FUCK!" I growled, feeling her exhaustedly collapse into me.

I woke up to the sun hitting me in the face, still seated on her couch in only my t-shirt. She had on panties and nothing else, lying facedown on the couch and using my thigh as a pillow. For the life of me I couldn't remember if I ever got her name, but I knew that she was the best fuck I'd ever had. It was surreal, knowing that she had reveled in submitting, while I was somewhat disappointed in my own rudeness looking back.

I petted her back softly as I thought about everything that had happened to me recently. I'd try to be better than that next time, maybe not be so rough like that, but who knows what would really wind up happening. I wasn't exactly sure but I felt like my life, my boring shitty life, was finally getting started. My dick stirred at the thought.