Sturgis Motorcycle Madness

The other woman has a couple of fingers inside me, and is licking my clit with her tongue. She knows what she's doing and I'm worried that I'm going to have an orgasm in front of all these people.

The woman sitting on my face has a hold of my ears and tells me she's going to break my neck if I don't make her come. People in the crowd are yelling, "Make her come!" I'm not sure if they're talking to me or the one who is fingering me.

Just as I start to lick the pussy on my face, I feel that familiar wave of ecstasy hit me, and I have to stifle a scream as I come. I'm hoping that it's not obvious to everyone that I'm coming, but then the woman eating me announces it to the crowd.

"She's fucking coming!" she says. "It's a big one! Fucking hell!"

The woman sitting on me got off my face, and then I felt someone pull me up by the arm and drag me out of the ring. It was Danielle.

"I'm getting you out of here," she said, matter-of-factly. I was in a daze, I just went along with her. As we walked out of the wrestling arena, we passed Lorene and Melinda.

"You bitches are going to pay for this," Danielle said to them. "Fucking cows."

Once away from the crowd, Danielle handed me my bikini, and I put it back on.

"Thanks," I said, still a little bit in shock. At least someone had come to my assistance. I had seen Patrick watching the show with an amused look on his face, and he didn't seem like he was inclined to step in to help me. That thought somehow brought tears to my eyes, and then suddenly I was sobbing.

Danielle put an arm around me, and hugged me. I tried my best to control myself. I had been thinking of Patrick as my protector, as if he were my boyfriend, and I realized how foolish I had been. He didn't see me as his girlfriend. I was just three holes to be used when he felt like it. I thought he was a way for me to escape from Justin, but I had only succeeded in trapping myself in a bigger hell.

Eventually, I calmed down, and we headed back to the camp. When we got there, most of the brothers, including Patrick, were there.

"Hey there, champ," Patrick said cheerfully. "Good show you put on today."

Instead of being pissed, as I should have been, I was overcome by a need to have his cock. I could tell that my pussy was dripping. I didn't know it then, but being degraded and abused was something that turned me on and got me going.

I took him by the arm and pulled him into the tent.

"I want you," I said, in front of everyone. Some of the brothers oohed and whistled as we went into the tent. I got on my knees and undid his pants. I took out his enormous cock and went to work on it with my mouth. With one hand, I fingered my clit as I sucked him.

Patrick was turned on, too, and within a few minutes, he shot a load into my mouth. I was a little disappointed because I was hoping to feel him inside my pussy. I stood up to leave, but Patrick told me to finish what I was doing.

"I saw you playing with yourself," he said. "Go and finish the job."

I put my hand back into my bikini bottoms and rubbed at myself furiously. It made me weak in the knees and I fell onto my knees.

""Come on, you little piece of shit,"' he said. "Make yourself come."

My breathing became ragged as I got close to an orgasm. Patrick chuckled as he watched me.

"Fuck, you're a slutty little whore," he said. "You fucking little Chinese bitch, come for me."

His degrading words, and the knowledge that everyone outside the tent could hear us and knew what was happening was too much. I came hard and collapsed onto the ground. Patrick laughed and went outside, leaving me spent and confused.

I sat in the tent and listened to the conversation outside. Patrick is telling everyone what a slut I am, and how I am going to be giving handjobs to other bikers for five dollars. Sweeney is still talking about how he and the other brothers want to gangbang me. Listening to them scares me and fills me with self-disgust. Somehow, I've managed to make everyone feel like I'm the biggest slut around, and there are a bunch of women there who have been biker bitches for a long time!

If we had cell phones back then, I probably would have called Justin and begged him to come pick me up. I think he would have done it, too, because he was gallant and chivalrous. But I didn't have a phone, and I didn't know how I was going to get out of there, and back to Whitewater.

But I knew I had to leave. I couldn't stay any longer. At least I had the sense to see that nothing good was going to happen while I was there. Although Patrick had said that I wouldn't be gangbanged, I could see that happening to me. And I knew I couldn't count on Patrick to help me.

I packed up my things into my backpack, and then quietly slipped out of the tent, and walked away from the camping area. I walked to the downtown area. I asked the bartender at One-Eyed Jack's Saloon if there was a bus from Sturgis to Whitewater, Wisconsin. He laughed and said there wasn't a bus from Sturgis to Sioux Falls, much less to Wisconsin.

A big ugly man drinking beer at the bar looked me up and down and said he would drive me if we could make a deal. The idea of riding on the back of his bike for a thousand miles repulsed me, not to mention what I'd have to do when we weren't on his bike.

"I could have fun with a girl like you," he said, leering at me. "Do we have a deal?"

I knew exactly what the deal was, and I said, no thanks.

I got the same answer about buses at the Iron Horse. A guy sitting at the bar drinking a cup of coffee overheard me and asked if I wanted a ride. He wasn't a biker, but a young guy about my age. He was clean-cut and good looking, and looked out of place in Sturgis. After being with a bunch of middle-aged, long-haired bikers, this guy looked like an angel from heaven.

I was almost too embarrassed to talk to him, and stared at him blankly for a second. I was still dressed like a complete slut, in short shorts and a bikini top. I wished I had my real clothes with me. Plus, I felt as though it must be obvious that I'd been used by bikers all weekend. But he didn't seem to notice.

"I don't usually dress like this," was the first thing I said.

"You're dressed for the occasion, I get it," he replied. "I'm sure I stick out like a sore thumb."

I took him up on his offer. It turned out that Will was a college student, driving from his parents' summer place in Jackson Hole back to Milwaukee where they lived. It was nice to sit in a car instead of the back of a bike for a change. We talked, and it turned out we had a lot in common. For me, it was like love at first sight. He was sweet and smart and seemed to be untroubled by my rough appearance.

It was easy talking to him, and we had a lot of time to talk. I didn't tell him about how I ended up in Sturgis, or what I was doing there. I felt a little guilty for not being honest, but I was pretty sure that telling him that I had agreed to be a biker's bitch for the weekend would be a deal killer.

He was hoping to get to his aunt and uncle's house in Iowa City, but it was ten hours from Sturgis, and he was resigned to stopping somewhere along the way. We stopped in the middle of nowhere, and he asked if I minded if we slept in the car. I didn't worry that he was going to try anything--he wasn't that kind of guy.

Actually, by then, I was hoping that he might kiss me, but he didn't, and it was just as well because I hadn't showered in a few days and I was a disgusting mess. After the last couple of days, I probably still had cum leaking out of my pussy and ass.

But when I woke up in the morning, his face was near mine, and he was looking at me intently. He reached over and kissed me gently on the lips. I kissed him back.

We stopped in Sioux City so that I could buy clothes that were more presentable for when we got to his aunt and uncle's house. I also bought some nail polish and eye-makeup remover. Will laughed when he saw the cleaned up version of me.

"You look different without your disguise," he said. "I like it."

"Oh good," I said. "I was afraid you might like the costume more."

"Well, it was hella sexy," he laughed.

When we got to Iowa City, he introduced me as his girlfriend. That night, we made love in the guest room. I was happy that I could shower before going to bed, and even happier to notice on inspection that all my lady's parts seemed to be intact and functioning. Will had an average size cock, and sex with him was sweet and lovely. It wasn't a violent assault like when Patrick fucked me. It felt like a return to normalcy.

When we got to my apartment in Whitewater, Will stayed with me instead of immediately continuing on to his parents' house in Milwaukee. But after about five days, he said he had to go home for a family thing. He said he would be back in a week.

But the next day, there was a knock on the door, and I opened it eagerly, hoping that Will had decided to come back early. But it was Patrick.

"Hey, what happened to you?" he asked. "Why'd you leave without me?"

"Sorry," I said. "I just had to get away from there. It was too much."

"Well, you should have stuck around, you missed some fun, and I missed you," Patrick said.

"You mean you missed my pussy," I said.

"Well, yeah," he replied. "And your mouth, too."

I was surprised by my Pavlovian reaction. As he stood there looking at me, I could feel my pussy dripping with lust. I didn't just want him, I wanted him to fuck me hard and use my pussy. There was a perfectly nice boy who I had started a relationship with, but I wanted this rough, older biker to stick his cock in all three of my holes.

It was like he could read my mind. He grabbed me by the hair and pushed me to my knees. He jammed his cock into my mouth and brutally fucked my face. He held tight to my head and forced his cock down my throat. He seemed amused by my discomfort and my inability to breathe.

When he got bored, he pulled his cock out of my throat and pushed me to the floor. I was wearing a dress and he grabbed my panties with one hand and ripped it off of me. He mounted me right there on the floor, and pushed his cock into me unceremoniously. Feeling his girth in me again made me gasp.

But Patrick didn't wait for me to get used to his size. He just pounded into me with unrelenting force and speed. Without a mattress to cushion the blow, I could feel every inch of him as he pistoned in and out of me. His weight crushed me with every plunge.

"You little bitch," he said as he fucked me. "You love getting used like a cheap whore."

"Use my pussy," I whimpered.

"I'm gonna punish you for leaving without permission," he said. "You know I have to."

"You don't have to," I pleaded. "I'll make it up to you."

"You can't make it up to me," he scoffed. "You think you're that good?"

A couple of times he slammed himself on me so hard that it made me cry out in pain. It didn't take long before he made me come. I wasn't prepared for it because it came so quickly. He had me wailing like a banshee and making all kinds of inhuman noises.

"You agreed to be my bitch, don't forget that," Patrick said. "You fucking humiliated me by walking out on me."

"You humiliated me all weekend," I shot back.

He slapped me, hard, in the face.

"Don't fucking talk back to me!" he yelled.

I was scared. He flipped me over onto my stomach. I felt his cock at my ass.

"Do you think you're going to get away with what you did?" he asked. "Did you think there would be no price to pay?"

"Oh god, please," I said, afraid of what he might do.

"Are you scared, little bitch?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Good, you should be scared," he said.

He fucked my ass, and made a point of going ass to mouth, over and over again. He would stick his dick in my asshole, then make me clean it off.

"You taste the filth from your ass?" he asked gleefully as I made a face. "I hope you like the taste."

After he got bored with that, he laid me across his lap with my ass facing toward him.

"That was the reward part of the evening, for being such a good fuck while you were in Sturgis," he said. "Now we come to the punishment portion."

With that, he spanked me hard, on my butt. I let out a blood curdling scream because it hurt a lot. He waited until I stopped screaming, and then caressed my ass where he had hit me. Then, without warning, he spanked me again. I yelled out of surprise as much as pain. This time, it was more of a glancing blow, and it didn't hurt as much.

He repeated this process five or six times. He got a couple of good licks in that really hurt. By the end, I was sobbing. My ass must have been bright red from the spanking. Patrick was completely unmoved by my crying. My tears hadn't stopped flowing when he climbed back on top of me and fucked me again.

I had never been so terrified as he spanked me, or as turned on. I didn't understand the extent to which the degradation was a source of my arousal. Before then, I had experienced it only in small doses, mainly by having one-night stand with guys who didn't really care about me. But I never understood what it was about those encounters that got me going.

Afterwards, he made me confess that I had started seeing someone. He told me that I'd better not try avoiding him or that he and his brothers might pay Will a visit.

"Shit, we might go see him anyway," he said. "I want to see who my competition is."

I knew better than to ask him not to do it. It would only make him do it for sure. I just bit my lip and nodded.

And that was how the rest of my summer went. Will came back to Whitewater, and lived with me. He even took me to Milwaukee to meet his parents. But once a week or so, Patrick would come over and take me to the clubhouse and fuck the living daylights out of me. Sometimes he would take me for a ride on his bike and fuck me across the seat. Once, when we got to the clubhouse, there were three brothers there, and I thought he might make me fuck them all, but he just made me give them blowjobs.

Another time, Beefy was there at the clubhouse when we arrived. I had a bad feeling come over me, and my instincts were confirmed.

"Show Kristen your cock," Patrick said to Beefy, and I was shocked to see it was even bigger than Patrick's. There was no way that was going to fit inside me.

"Do you know what a spitroast is?" he asked me, and I shook my head. But I had a feeling I was about to find out.

They carried me to the mattress in the back room. Patrick told me to get on all fours and Beefy knelt in front of me, his cock already erect and pointing in the air. A month earlier, I would have had a real problem with this--sucking off a man in front of someone else. But Patrick had finally worn down my defenses.

As I sucked on that enormous cock, I felt Patrick get behind me. He held onto my hips and then pushed his cock into me. I made a strangled sound of a woman trying to scream while a cock is lodged in her mouth. But in a second, the pain of having Patrick's cock in my pussy was replaced by the pain of Beefy's cock going down my throat.

"That's a spitroast," said Beefy, drolly. "Get it?"

The discomfort I felt at both ends was extreme. I was being stretched past my limits. My mind flashed back to Will's gentle love-making earlier that morning, and this did not even seem like it was the same activity.

The worst part of being double-teamed, I learned that day, is that as soon as one man felt that he was about to come, they switched places, and, in this way, they could last forever without coming. After about forty minutes, I was going completely crazy. I had already come so many times, and I was exhausted and beside myself. In case you're wondering, there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.

"Oh my god, please," I moaned. "I can't take any more!"

A half hour later, my pussy was in a state of distress. Thankfully, they used a lot of lubrication, but still, my pussy just didn't feel right. I begged them to stop, but of course, they didn't. A short time later, as Beefy's huge cock was going in and out of my pussy, I had a massive orgasm that made me pass out.

When I came to, Patrick and Beefy were gone. They left me lying on the floor, naked. They had taken my clothes, too. "Assholes," I said out loud when I discovered that I had nothing to wear and no way to get home because the clubhouse was in the middle of nowhere.

I saw that they had left me a note: "We thought you might want to be the club mama. You can quit your waitressing job and stay here for the rest of the summer. We will feed you, and even give you an allowance. I will bring you some more appropriate clothing for a mama to wear. As a biker mama, you will get all the sex that you want. You'll love it."

Oh my god, get me out of here, I thought. And yet, as I desperately looked for something to wear, I found myself wondering if I could do such a thing. Could I be a biker club's full-time slut, servicing whoever came by to the clubhouse? Something about that made my body buzz as if an electric current was running inside me. And yet, it was also horrifying to contemplate.

Luckily I found a pair of cutoffs and a bikini top in a dresser drawer. I walked half a mile until I saw a gas station. I couldn't call Will, I just couldn't, so I called Justin, who came to pick me up. I confessed what sorts of things I'd been doing with Patrick, and Justin just shook his head.

In some ways, it was a relief to tell someone what I'd been doing. He could see that I was upset and he didn't even try to lecture me. He had seen me around town with Will, and I had been hoping that he was somewhat jealous. But after what I told him, he probably felt lucky to be rid of me.

Most of you won't understand my behavior. Heck, I didn't understand myself back then. Because I couldn't see who I was, I lived with fear and guilt. Sometimes we're made up of conflicting and powerful desires, and they are difficult to control. And sometimes, like that summer, the desires control you.