Biker Bar, the sold slave, Chapter 3
This story was inspired by another fictional work done by Kinky Tim and posted on Scatboi.com, entitled Biker Bar Toilet. This is meant to be a prequel happening before the events described in the original story. The major players are Butch, the biker gangs boss; Ox, a rival to Butch in the same gang; and Travis, another member of the gang. This is a fictional work and any feedback is appreciated.
I was riding bitch on the back of this bikers Harley and I didn't even know where we were going. It's not like I had much choice in all this. After all, when I came out of the bar my bike was gone. I hadn't taken a lot of money or anything with me to the bar. And I was so exhausted both mentally and physically after being fed so much and then being shit fucked.
We rode across town. I looked and there were other bikers from the bar riding behind us in formation. I thought about getting off the bike but I was sure that if I did I would just be picked up by one of the other bikers. So I stayed where I was. Holding onto this big biker's chest and wondering where we were going.
About ten minutes after we left the bar we pulled up to this gated drive way in an industrial part of the town. There was nothing around us but warehouses, garages, and abandoned buildings. One of the other bikers pulled up and put a code into the gate box and the gate opened.
We rode up to this building that was obviously like club house for the biker gang. It had a big painting of the patch I had been looking at for the last few minutes on the wall next to the door. It also had several garage doors and one of them opened to let the bikes pull in.
Inside the door was a large parking area that was already full of bikes, including mine. At least I knew where it was now. The bikes all pulled into what must have been some kind of order. We parked really close to the door so I am assuming the guy I have been riding with must have been important. The others were spread out, but everyone seemed to know where to park.
As I got off the bike I was met by two bikers and before I could do anything they had me on my knees. It didn't take much, one kicked the back of the knee and down I went. They had my hands and as I look back on it they were treating me just like I had been taught to treat a prisoner of war. I was being told what to do, but they weren't waiting for me to do it.
The big guy got off his bike and took his helmet off, then took mine off. He spoke deliberately and with a very matter of fact tone. "My name is Travis but all you need to remember is boss or sir."
My mind was trying to wrap around everything. Looking for escape routes, weapons, ways to get away, and on what this man was saying.
"I like you. I think you could be useful around here. And more to the point, we are looking for a new toilet pig for the place." He said as he walked around me. I was picked up to my feet and marched over to a door. Travis went in first and I was put through behind him. He kept talking as he walked and I tried my best to memorize the path, doors, anything that I could use to help me get out.
"You may be wondering why you. I have to say you did a good job as the toilet in the bar, but the main reason you are here is that tattoo on your chest." My tattoo, that's why I was here?
"Most of us have been in the military and we like to look after our own." Travis went on talking. "So when I saw that tattoo I knew we needed to see if you could fill our position. One of the loads of shit you ate tonight was our President and you did a good job. He likes a good toilet bitch around here."
We were coming to the end of a long hall. Some of the doors we had passed were open and it looked like each of the bikers had a room here. There were beds and desks in most rooms. Some even looked like they might have a private bathroom. It was like a home away from home I guess.
"I know you might have some questions, but save them for later. Right now let me show you where you will be staying for a while." With that Travis opened the door at the end of the hall and it looked like something out of a horror movie. There was a cell at the end of it and a set up similar to the bar. There were also some other pieces of furniture or equipment in the room but from the look of it this was not a room people stayed in voluntarily.
I was pushed into the cell and one of the bikers removed my cuffs before I was locked into the cell. I was left there and once the bikers all left the lights were turned off and that's when I realized there were no windows and only the one door. I looked around some more and I saw there was a cot to sleep on, but no sink or toilet in the cell. I needed to think and calm down a little so I sat on the cot and without even realizing it, I fell asleep.
I woke up when I heard the door open and the lights came on. It was a biker and he looked at me and laughed, then turned the lights back off and closed the door. I tired going back to sleep but couldn't. I laid there thinking about everything. I hadn't talked to my family in years; I got disowned when I came out. I didn't have anyone that would be looking for me until Monday when I didn't show up for my job. Even then I'm not sure anyone would really miss me or go looking for me. The only one that might miss me was a coworker that I let fuck me now and then. I was basically fucked.
It must have been hours later when Travis came back into the room and turned the lights on. He had a Jack Daniels bottle in his hand and a cigar in his mouth. He looked at me and grinned. "Get them off devil dog." He said.
"Get what off?" I asked.
Boy was that the wrong answer. Travis looked at me and his mood turned very serious. His eyes got very stern and the cigar clinched in his jaw. He grabbed what looked like a cattle prod and walked to the cell. He put the prod through the bars and onto my shoulder and that's the last thing I remember before waking up on the floor with drool coming out of my mouth.
"Want to try that again devil dog? Now get out of those fucking clothes." Travis said still standing outside the cell.
I got up and stripped. It's not like he hadn't seen me naked or anything. Hell I probably still had his load in my ass. Once out of my clothes, I just stood there looking at him. He was not the best looking man I had ever let fuck me, but he was the meanest looking man. And he looked even meaner right now.
"Let me tell you how this is going to work." Travis started while still holding the cigar in his jaw. "You are going to push your clothes out through the bars and then you are going to get on your knees with your hands behind your back facing the wall." As he talked you could see the smoke coming out with his breath and words.
I complied and I heard the cell door open and then I felt the cuffs back on my wrist. He twisted my arm back and down which made me stand up to relieve the strain on my arm. With that he cuffed my other wrist so I was cuffed like a prisoner. I was pulled backwards and shoved forward into the cinderblock toilet set up.
"You know what to do devil dog." Travis said as he out a hand on my shoulder and pushed me to my knees. I was kneeling in front of him and he immediately took out his cock and started to piss. He covered me in piss because I didn't open my mouth fast enough. But even when my mouth was open he wasn't aiming for it.
Once he was done, he pushed my shoulder back and I fell onto my back. As soon as I was down he reached over and grabbed a metal collar and locked it around my neck. I tried to get back on my knees but there wasn't enough slack. My struggling caused Travis to laugh a little more breaking the serious mood. Travis put his boot on my chest and down I went again.
The cuffs were eating into my back but Travis didn't care. He put his weight on my chest while moving a toilet seat down over my face. In a pretty fast move, he turned around and dropped his pants and sat on the seat. I was both in awe and hatred of this man. Travis could obviously careless as I heard the first drunk fart come out and right into my face. It was rank.
Moments later his ass opened up and I could see the head of a turd coming out. I didn't want to eat it, but I also didn't want to wear it. So I opened my mouth and clamped it to his ass and let his log snake out and down my throat. That was followed by another and then a third. The last was soft and coated the inside of my mouth and I was doing my best to get it down when Travis' boot hit my cock.
"Clean me up devil dog." Travis said and so I did. Making sure he was clean so I could try to save my crotch.
Travis got up and I thought my service was over, but it wasn't. Travis left but didn't let me up. In fact as soon as he was done and out of the room, another biker came in. This was not one I had seen at the bar. He was a skinny punk looking guy with a shaved head and covered in tats. He didn't speak, just dropped his pants, sat on the seat, and I barely got my mouth on his ass before he let loose with a runny, loose, messy shit.
I could barely swallow this shit. It was like having my mouth attached to a sewer pipe that just flowed right into it. He would grunt and another wave of shit would hit my mouth and I would gag and try to swallow it as fast as I could. When he finished, I cleaned him up and he barely got off my mouth before I had one of those shit belches that makes you relive the last feeding.
I ate 3 more loads before one of the bikers came in and released my new collar from the floor. I thought the collar would come off but it didn't. The collar stayed on. I was so thankful to get off my back though. The cuffs had seriously cut off the flow of blood to my hands and they had cut into my back pretty bad. This guy seemed to care somewhat. He looked at my back and rubbed something onto it. But his compassion didn't last long. Once he had me up and was done working on my back he pushed me back into the cell and left, turning the lights off as he went.
Was it still Friday night? Was it Saturday yet? I didn't know. I did know that I was in trouble.