The Descent Ch. 19

Needing to be out of the house for an entire day was the perfect chance for Sharon to meet up with Barb and get into trouble together. It had been too long since they'd gone out for some debauchery and their weekly lunch hadn't been nearly as routine as it had once been due to all the wild changes in Sharon's life as of late. Barb had jumped at the chance to spend a day out together, and before Sharon had even had a chance to suggest anything Barb said she had a great idea but wouldn't say any more than that.

They met at the mall, which was Barb's idea, and Sharon took a quick bump of coke from her pinky nail before stepping out into the sun. She enjoyed the warm sun as it blanketed her bare skin, which peaked out from her loose dress starting high on her thighs, cleavage, arms, and shoulders. Barb had said not to waste too much time on her outfit, suggesting that they start their day with a shopping spree. Barb was only a few minutes late, which was surprising, and she pulled up next to Sharon with a gleam that was visible from outside the car through the windshield.

"So, what's this plan of yours?" Sharon asked, trying not to sound too interested.

"Let me surprise you," Barb replied, smiling back at her longtime friend, and crushing a spent cigarette under the heel of her red pumps.

Sharon decided to go with the flow, not pushing her friend for any further details, confident that Barb would not disappoint. She followed Barb to the mall and noticed that she had a definite target in mind, not even bothering to glance at the passing storefronts on-route to her destination. Sharon again resisted the urge to press her for information and simply followed along next to her, eventually ending up at an alternative clothing store called 'Firebird Apparel.'

Sharon looked around as they stepped inside and noticed a lot of leather and what she could only describe as 'biker' clothing.

"Don't think I've ever even been in this place," she mused aloud.

Sharon spun on her heels and faced Sharon with a knowing grin.

"Let me choose our clothing, and just go with it and don't ask a bunch of questions, okay?" she challenged.

Sharon rolled her eyes but nodded her head in begrudging acceptance of her friend's request.

They tried on a number of different outfits, all put together by Barb, and eventually walked out wearing leather from head-to-toe. Sharon wore tight black leather pants tucked into knee-high leather boots. Her tight, black leather jacket was unclasped and left open to reveal her lacy black bustier that didn't even reach past her first pair of ribs and showed off her flat stomach.

Barb wore a black leather one-piece with a large zipper stretching from her upper crotch to her bust, where it was unzipped to reveal fleshy mounds of cleavage. The legs were fashioned like hotpants, rolled up to her upper thighs and her waist was cinched with a built-in leather belt strung inside belt loops.

They both looked like they were ready to jump on the back of a Harley or try their hand at being a dominatrix. Sharon had definitely been hesitant at-first, never really seeing herself as the black leather type, but she had to admit that she looked and felt very sexy. She also enjoyed the feeling of the soft leather against her skin, and there was something very carnal about it.

"You look hot," Barb commented as she stared at Sharon.

Sharon couldn't help but blush, and she did a few poses by sticking out her chest and ass. Barb didn't hesitate to kiss her passionately, grabbing her face in her hands and plunging her tongue into Sharon's mouth. Sharon was only too happy to accept her friend's advances and kissed her back in the middle of the mall like the shameless whore she had become. They enjoyed each other's mouths for a few more moments before breaking free and heading back to the cars.

They both instinctually lit up cigarettes almost as soon as they were outside of the building and filled their lungs with thick smoke that still gave Sharon a shudder of pleasure. After exhaling a long, thick stream of smoke from her red-painted lips she looked expectantly at her friend as she did the same.

"So? Where to next?" she asked before taking another monstrous drag.

"You'll see, why don't you drive with me? It'll be easier if we just take one car," Barb suggested.

Sharon didn't have any reason to protest so she nodded, and they made their way to Barb's vehicle. Sharon smoked a couple of cigarettes and took a few bumps of coke while they drove, noticing that they were heading further and further outside of the city. Eventually a dingy strip mall came into view that Sharon had never seen before, and they pulled in.

It was a line of businesses next to a gas station with a bar anchoring them at the far end of the parking lot. The gas station looked sketchy and old, with a dated sign that simply said 'Gas,' while sporting two pumps out front. A couple of hundred feet away was the strip mall, with the first building being a liquor store that simply said 'Liquor' in red lettering. Next to that was a tattoo shop that continued the theme of the mall, just called 'Tattoo.' Next to that was a smoke shop with the same predictable name and finally a bar.

The bar was the only business that had a unique name, in that it didn't have a name whatsoever. It was clear that it was a bar with the illuminated signs of various beer and liquor brands hanging in the windows, but there was nothing else to identify what it was called.

"Where the fuck are we?" Sharon asked her friend.

Barb laughed, a throaty and carefree display that annoyed Sharon a little bit. Was she really worried or apprehensive about being on the 'wrong side of town'? She realized that she was not annoyed with Barb, she was annoyed with herself. It had been quite some time since she had felt like the scared, inexperienced woman of several months ago and she did not like a reminder of that person.

"Relax, it's going to be fun," Barb replied finally.

As Sharon followed Barb toward the building that said 'Tattoo' she couldn't help but notice the dozen or so motorcycles parked outside of the unnamed bar at the end of the lot. The leather outfits were starting to make more sense, but she was still unsure exactly what Barb had planned. The sense of unknown was a source of both excitement and anxiety that swirled in her stomach like a washing machine. She ignored it and took a deep breath, resolving to shake off the weakness she hated about her old self.

Upon stepping into the tattoo shop Sharon's vision was cast almost entirely in darkness as her eyes struggled to adjust to the extreme difference between the sunny outdoors and the darkness of the building. She took off her sunglasses and waited a few moments for her eyes to adjust. Once she could finally see it was hard to believe that anyone was able to do anything, let alone tattoo, in the low light of the single room building.

It was even smaller than it had appeared from the outside, basically consisting of one tattoo chair and a wall mounted shelf with a large mirror above it. At first there didn't appear to be anyone working, but a side door opened, and the silhouette of a giant man stepped in. It looked like the buildings were accessible through doors that connected them, like in some motels, and perhaps the man who worked in the liquor store also worked as a tattoo artist. For Sharon, that didn't bode well for the quality of work that was on offer there.

As the man stepped closer and into the low light of the room, Sharon was able to get a better look at him. A stained and faded Harley Davidson t-shirt under a leather vest clung tightly to the morbidly obese frame of a bearded 40-something. His beard hair and was as unkempt and wiry as the hair on his head, both black and peppered with grey. His rotund beer belly hung over the belt that struggled to hold up his blue jeans and he stomped forward with a pair of boots that no-doubt spent a lot of time on the pegs of a motorcycle.

He smiled at them as he approached, a lascivious smile that did nothing to hide the lustful thoughts that were no-doubt swimming through his head.

"Do for you ladies?" he asked, not bothering to even look away from their breasts as he addressed them.

"We'd like to get some ink," Barb said confidently.

The man smiled wide and toothy, several silver teeth gleaming even with the dingy yellow lighting.

"Both of you?" he asked.

Barb nodded, not waiting for Sharon to even offer her own input.

"Whatcha want?" he asked simply.

"Don't care, you choose. I just want to get it done here," Barb said pointing to her chest between her cleavage.

The man smiled even wider, nodding in acceptance.

"You?" he said, turning toward Sharon.

"Here," Barb said, pointing to the space under Sharon's bellybutton on her upper groin.

The man eyed Sharon, waiting to see if she was going to object. When Sharon said nothing, he nodded again, and eyed both women in a manner that was obvious he was mentally undressing them.

"Who's first?" He asked, walking back to the tattoo chair.

"I'll go," Sharon said, stepping forward before Barb could volunteer.

Barb didn't say anything as Sharon stepped over to the chair and sat down.

There was nothing else said as the man went to work on Sharon. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as she was worried about but given the area that he was working in it certainly wasn't comfortable. What made it worse was the fact that she had no idea what he was creating, which Sharon loathed to admit she was more than a little bit concerned about. She was far from the prudish middle-aged woman she had once been, but she still wasn't all that confident that she had any fashion sense in common with the obese biker who was now drawing on her skin.

After a while Sharon just let her mind drift, and the buzzing of the tattoo gun and the sting of the pain faded into the background as she lost track of time. It was nearly 3 hours later when he finally sat up and smiled.

"Done?" Sharon asked.

The man nodded and dabbed the skin. He must have done a decent job as her skin wasn't as delicate or sore as she anticipated, although there was a clear tenderness that she could feel. Gingerly Sharon stood up and looked into the mirror to appraise herself. What she saw was surprisingly tasteful, given the man who had been responsible for it.

It was a small red rose in the center of her groin, several inches below her bellybutton. To either side of the rose were small black tribal swirls in the shape of a stylized 'S.'

"That's sexy," Barb appraised.

Sharon couldn't say she disagreed and surprised herself by really liking it.

"My turn," Barb said, stepping forward and sitting in the chair.

Sharon kind of expected the tattoo artist to say he needed a break, but he didn't. He just picked up his tattoo gun again and went to work. It was a much different experience to watch the tattoo materialize bit-by-bit. Sharon took several cigarette breaks but saw most of the entire thing come together in real time. At first Sharon had thought it was a weird squiggle design, but soon enough she realized it was a snake.

It took about two-and-a-half hours because it was all one color, but when it was done there was a snake that seemed to be slithering up between Barb's cleavage with his forked tongue sticking out. Sharon had to admit that it was a badass looking tattoo that instantly transformed her friend's look to be much more risqué.

Barb seemed to agree, because when she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror she squealed in delight.

"Paying together or separate?" the man asked, wasting no time.

"Depends," Barb said with a mischievous grin.

The man's eyebrow crooked up in interest but waited for the red-haired minx to continue.

"On?" he asked.

"On whether you want us to suck your cock together or one at a time?" she completed.

The man smiled wide but didn't necessarily look all that surprised.

"If you owe me, you owe the rest of us," the man replied cryptically.

"The rest of you?" Sharon asked.

"The rest of my buddies over in the bar get a taste, same as me," he explained.

It was clear that this man was a part of some sort of biker gang or biker group or something that Sharon didn't understand. But the idea of a bunch of sweaty, drunk bikers using her like a piece of meat immediately began to heat up her box in anticipation.

"Lead the way," Barb replied.

The man walked up to the front door of the tattoo shop and flipped the close sign around and locked the door. He then led the two women to the side door he had entered from and lead them into the liquor store where he did the same thing. Finally, he stepped behind the register and went through another door that opened to the bar. Sharon and Barb followed him through the door and into the surprisingly large space.

There were about a dozen patrons, some at the bar nursing a beer or whiskey, some playing pool in the back left of the building, and another group sitting at a round table laughing and drinking. When they walked in from the side door behind the bar, they all looked over at them with similar expressions of lust on their faces.

None of them were younger than 30, and none of them could be considered traditionally handsome, but none of that mattered at all to Sharon. What she saw was a room full of willing cock ready to fuck and fill her without a second thought.

"These two ladies need to pay for their tattoos," said the man who led them.

Without a word several men from the table stood up and started walking toward them, unbuttoning their belts, and licking their lips. Sharon really didn't even bother looking them over, she simply dropped to her knees and prepared. It wasn't 15 seconds later when she had two cocks thrust in her face, one that she devoured with her mouth and the other she started pumping in her hand. Barb was doing the same with a couple others, only a few feet separating them as they both worked a pair of cocks from their knees.

The men were not gentle, and Sharon and Barb gagged on their meat constantly as they thrust themselves down their throats with no considerations. That was fine with Sharon, and she imagined that Barb felt the same, the drool of their sloppy blowjobs providing extra lubrication to stroke the cocks that waited their turn. By now Sharon had become quite proficient in sucking multiple cocks and switching between them.

It wasn't long before both of her current patrons were rock hard and engorged. One of them grabbed her head forcefully and began stroking himself before unleashing a spray of hot cum on the side of her face. She turned her attention to the orgasming cock and caught the rest of his seed in her mouth, gulping it down like a starving animal before returning back to the original man. Sharon caught a sight of Barb taking two simultaneous loads of cum, white jets streaking her face, tongue, and hair as she continued to suck hard on another cock.

This time Sharon was treated to a throatpie, as the cock was rammed balls-deep into her throat as he began to climax. She worked her throat and fought her gag reflex as he emptied himself directly into her belly. As two more began to move toward her with their cocks already freed Sharon grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the table and brought it to her lips. She took several large gulps of the brown liquid and let it burn the back of her throat and warm her belly as she prepared for her next round of cocks to service.

Barb followed suit, walking over to the bottle with cum dripping off her face and onto her black leather one-piece shamelessly. After her thirst for booze was slaked for the moment, she dropped back down to her knees and accepted the next pair of pricks. Sharon did the same and before long she was taking another load and then another. As much as she was enjoying herself, her neck and knees were getting sore, and she longed to have a climax of her own. After having another man spray his cum all over her face, she put her finger up and stood.

"Let me use the bathroom to wipe off a moment and I'll be back to let you use my pussy," she tempted.

She didn't wait for a reply, knowing that a chance to fuck her cunt would be worth the wait. She could hear Barb gagging on another cock from behind her as she made her way to the back of the bar to the bathroom but didn't bother looking back. She could handle herself.

Sharon stepped into the dirty bathroom and up to the single stained sink to look at herself in the mirror. It was dirty and dotted with drops of various fluids, but she could still make out what she looked like in that moment. Her previously flawless make-up was smudged and running in places, and streaks, smears, and drops of cum glazed her face like she was the worlds most sugarcoated donut.

Before she cleaned herself up, she dug into the pocket of her leather jacket and retrieved her brown vial of coke, tapping a bit onto her pointer finger and ganking it back.

"You like to party, huh baby?" came a voice from behind her.

Sharon turned to see an uncharacteristically thin biker with stringy dark blonde hair streaked with grease and acne scars cutting deep into his concaved cheeks. He was smiling at her darkly and Sharon wasn't sure if he was one of the men she'd already sucked off or not.

"I haven't cleaned up yet, honey," she said, unsure of what the man wanted to do.

"That's fine with me, I was just coming back to shoot some junk," he answered, holding up a stubby needle filled with brown liquid.

Sharon's eyes must have shown a lot of interest in that little needle because the man seemed to perk up and smile even wider.

"You want a taste?" he tempted.

"What is it?" she asked.

The man's demeanor immediately changed, twisting into a look of annoyance and violence.

"I told you bitch, it's junk. You gonna take my offer or what?" he spat angrily.

It was clear based on the man's response that he was not asking, so Sharon smiled and nodded.

Like a light had been switched his features softened and he regained his smile. He stepped up to her and Sharon instinctively stepped away and felt her back press against one of the standing urinals. The man didn't seem to notice as his eyes never left hers, holding the stubby needle up with his finger at the plunger almost as if he was wielding it like a weapon. Sharon's breath caught in her throat as the man brought the needle up to her face and dragged it across her skin.

"You're gonna have to give me something in return," he whispered, licking her cheek.

Sharon started to kneel, but the man pressed himself closer to prevent it.

"I want first crack at that sweet cunt," he breathed, still holding the needle up to her face.

The tension and danger of the situation was intoxicating, and Sharon longed to be barebacked by this degenerate criminal. Without being told she began shimmying her tight leather pants down her thighs, allowing them to bunch up at her knees above her boots.

"Now me," he instructed, his yellow-green eyes never leaving Sharon's.

She reached out and unbuckled his pants, which allowed them to practically fall off of him like they were several sizes too big.

He was already growing and as Sharon began to stroke him, he pressed his cockhead into the tender skin near her tattoo. She angled him down a bit and felt her labia quiver in anticipation as he brushed against her slit. She bowed her legs just enough to let him slip his head between her netherlips. He grunted and thrust himself into her, filling her canal with his surprisingly thick cock. Sharon gasped in delight and the man grabbed her by the throat with his left hand while his right continued to hold the needle.

He paused his thrusts and began to bring the needle closer to her throat and Sharon froze, unsure of what the man intended.