Gang Up: A Bikerland Novel (7 page)

Abigail leaned against the mop, staring at Robin as she stirred distantly.

“I have to admit something to you.”

“Oh?” Robin let the stirring stick settle for a moment. Leaning forward, she focused all her attention on her friend. “What’s up?”

“The man I’ve said I’m in love with? The one I see?”

This was a sudden turn in talk, but that was fine. Abigail had been distant all day long.

“Your mysterious Romeo?” Robin nodded. “What about him?”

“It’s Case.”

“It’s...it’s
Case
?”

This was even more shocking than Robin’s own hidden romance. She struggled with the sudden revulsion that shook her. Revulsion that centered squarely around the thought of fucking a stepbrother—when fucking her own, Troy, was the worst idea in the world to her.

“My brother. Yeah. The one...you’re marrying.”

“Right.” Robin had almost forgotten about that. “Right. Yes. I see.”

“He loves me back. It’s not just me being crazy.”

“Of course he does.” Robin nodded. “Of
course
he does. Why wouldn’t he? You’re terrific.”

Be supportive. Try and understand. Abigail knew what she was doing. What she described was taboo, but Abigail had always been out there.

God, what a taboo, though.

“It’s just that...now with the marriage, he wants for us to stop. Because of what people might think.”

But Robin’s mind raced. If Robin went to Brall, then Case would have to turn back to Abigail. He’d be emboldened, even, by Robin’s move. Abigail would comfort him. They would be together.

Everyone would get what they want.

“It will all...” Robin shrugged. “It will all work out. I know it will.”

She did not look convinced. “How?”

“It just...
will
, that’s all.”

Abigail's mouth became hard, then.

“Do you have anything to tell me?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Anybody you’ve been seeing? Anything that’s happened?”

Abigail knew. Of course she knew. Abigail always knew what was happening with Robin.

But still, Robin shook her head. “Nothing. Sorry.” She gestured back to the pitch, and her bag of documents beyond. “Boring life.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Abigail.

But strangely, she didn’t seem sorry at all. She left soon after, to where Robin did not know.

––––––––

A
s the evening fell over Temple. Carthage dragged Brall out from his tent and walked him toward the hills surrounding the town.

Brall didn't want to go—he was due to meet Robin—but Carthage insisted.

“What have you got, big Boss? Who ain't gonna wait on you? Come on. This is important. You'll like this.”

Brall didn't know to explain himself without revealing far too much. And so, he went along with Carthage, feeling trapped though he didn't know why.

Robin would understand, he told himself. He'd explain it all the next he saw her. Get a message to her through someone in town. That would be simple enough. And then he'd make it clear—well clear, beforehand—that he was not to be disturbed during that time.

Just a kink to work out. That's all this delay was. And then he'd sink himself into Robin just how he had always needed.

Hell, if they finished up soon enough, he might even still see her. She would wait. He knew she would wait.

He continued to press onto Carthage, asking him what was happening. At first, the big man would reveal nothing of his intentions, but after several minutes of Brall’s demands, Carthage finally gave in.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiled. “Your girl. We’re going to indoctrinate her.”

“What?”

“I know who your girl is. I found out. Very smart, your friend Carthage is. Now she’ll be yours. Consequences be damned. We are the Cauldron. If they want to fight us, let them boil.”

Brall’s heart hammered with anticipation. He would have her, finally. Robin. His cock in her cunt. All his thoughts of working out kinks felt immediately wiped away. He was going to
have
her.

Goddamn, what a friend he had in Carthage. He suddenly could not walk quickly enough to the indoctrination area.

She could take the other men. He knew she could. And once she had been through that trial of fire, that tribulation of cocks and cum and brutality, he’d know for certain that she was his and his alone. Forever.

But when they arrived finally in the small valley in the hills, the sand black and torches lit up in a circle to illuminate their dark ceremony, it was not Robin in the middle of the stones.

It was Abigail. Not Robin. Not the love of his life.

Abigail.

She looked like she had arrived early, before the sun had properly started to set past the mud-red horizon. But it was dark now, and all the men were waiting for Brall to arrive.

In the circle now, she was surrounded by six men. Each of them with muscles hard as the land they stood on. All of their thick, veiny members glistening with precum, stroked slowly and sure by helping Cauldron Girls aching for their own taste of the hot, delicious substance contained in every man. The soldiers thrummed with anticipation now that Brall had arrived—they would start soon.

Abigail got down on all fours in the circle, her tight ass held high. Long blond hair draped to one side, the tips sliding in the dirt. Her thighs were wet already. She may have been a Family girl, but she was still a woman—all those hard, dripping cocks around her was driving her wild.

“This isn’t enough men,” she called.

A happy grumble struck up among Brall’s men. They all wanted a turn with Abigail. Even if she had not been a Family girl, and so all the more taboo of an offering, she was gorgeous. Positively gorgeous. Possibly the sexiest babe any of them had ever had chance to come across in the past, saving maybe for Robin. She was like an angel, fallen from on high, waiting to be corrupted and destroyed by their sinful ways. Their eyes shifted to Brall, each of them hoping to take the honor of having Abigail for themselves.

Abigail continued. “And none of your number will be enough, truly...unless...”

Her eyes blazed and rested on Brall. She brought up one hand slowly, like she was composing at a concert.

“You. I want
your
cock to claim me.”

Before, Brall had tolerated this exercise. Knowing something was up with the girl, knowing that she had her mind on evil things. It was the way of a mind like hers. But now his mood, always volatile, had ramped up to a strange grinning fury. He could not turn down her request in front of all his men. And yet his heart burned with endless, furious hot passion for Robin. Only for Robin. The thought of fucking another woman—someone so close to Robin, as well—was not a welcome one. And yet he felt trapped. There was no choice in the matter.

If he lost face in front of his warriors, he lost everything. Already, he had waited too long. To hesitate much longer would bring questions.

Approaching the blond vixen his stance was tall and strong. He took off his vest and then the shirt beneath, revealing the massive musculature that had won him his primal kingdom of killers. Then his pants, his thighs dense and cut with rivulets of defined flesh, his cock half-hard but already more massive than any other in the mob. The Cauldron women in the crowd, previously purring in the ears of the soldiers next to them, stared in awe at his reveal. Muscles stacked high, each one chiseled and hard. Like a statue from old. His appearance struck something primordial in each of them, a distant relationship to the gods they had long ago abandoned for slaughter and hedonism.

This was so even though almost all in the crowd had seen him before in such a manner—naked and hardening. Their awe was only re-doubled by seeing the force of his nakedness once more. Women stroking cocks stroked them harder, helpless before the power of so much manliness. Their minds consumed with the thought that maybe, somehow, by stroking the cock in their hands hard enough that it would take on the perfect form of the one on Brall which now filled their suddenly vacuous minds. Drool formed at their lips, and all jealousy from the other men struck away by this increase in pleasure encouraged by Brall’s colossal appearance.

Even Abigail was impressed. As if she had to rethink what she knew upon seeing him—this new god in the primitive wastes of the earth. He held her by the face, stroking her downy soft hair. The strands thick and golden, streaming through his fingers like tangible sunlight. His cock pulsed just under her chin, and her breath caught, feeling the stark heat of him against her body.

He placed his lips next to her ear so that only they two could hear.

“I will make you pay for this.”

But she only smiled up at him. A wicked, devilish thing. “Do you promise?”

She was no fallen angel. She was a succubus, brought up from the depths to torment him. It was the only explanation.

Very well. If she was a demon, he would exorcise her from his mind and his body forever after.

He powered his throbbing manhood into her mouth, fucking her brutally. Enjoying the pained, pleasured moans that she let out. Other men fucked her from behind, pushing her all the way to the ground. Her body contorted so that one man could enter her asshole while another fucking into her tight young pussy. Abigail loved all of it.

Excited from so many watching him, from finally fucking this demoness who had tempted him for so long, he chose not to hold out long in his cumming. He wanted more. He wanted to fuck her body everywhere. He unleashed with a hot, quick series of spurts in her mouth, loading down her tongue and throat with much of his cum.

But he wanted more, now.

Exiting her mouth, another man entered it right after, and Abigail’s cum-soaked tongue slid around his cock in a torrent of fever-pitch fellatio. Moaning and cooing for more.

After he came, he was still rock hard. Her body was too perfect. He wanted her again. He’d take her as many times as he wanted. He was the boss, wasn’t he? He was the leader of the Cauldron. He was the fucking king of this town. He shoved a soldier, Garner, back from her asshole, pushing him out roughly. Garner stumbled and rose back up, annoyed, but a harsh look from Brall kept him at bay. The smaller man satisfied himself with stroking his cock on the sidelines, looking on, grabbing her tits and rubbing her back as he edged himself to climax.

Brall thrust back inside Abigail—into that tightest of spaces, her tiny little asshole. It had been spread open already by Garner—but Brall pumped deeper into it still. The cum and precum of the former fucker lubricated his entrance, and he pounded inside her.

“Fuck you,” Brall grunted. “Fucking...
fuck
you...”

Abigail moaned with ceaseless enthusiasm.

That was good. All fine by Brall. He’d fucked girls into loving him in the past. Always, he had worn through them in days or weeks. Tiring them out or getting tired of them. All the better to do it to Abigail—to exhaust her possibilities for him. If she fell in love with him, all the better. He wanted to rip her heart out for making him do this to her. To Robin.

His hands groped up and down her body, joining the hands of five or six other men as they felt up her tits, squeezed her luscious thighs and ass. Her entire body covered over with manly grips. She was made for this, made for abusing and fucking just like this.

Brall couldn’t hold on. He didn’t want to.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Gonna...yeah...”

He erupted inside her body in a long shuddering orgasm. This one more triumphant than the last—given after so much effort and care and thrusting. Beneath him, he felt Abigail quivering with her own orgasm as her body was overloaded with hot goo, a white flood of perfection that melted right through to her core. Brall, heaving and laughing slightly, slid out from her.

But it wasn’t over. Abigail held her asshole high, even as it dripped with Brall’s cum.

“More!” Abigail cried.

It was beyond belief. Brall had given her everything he had. Shrugging, he waved on another two men. They would tire her out, soon enough, and she would be indoctrinated all the way.

The Family would hear about this. What Brall had done to Abigail. It would mean war.

He approached Carthage, smiling on the sidelines, a woman kneeling and sucking his cock. Miranda again.

“Whenever she’s done,” Brall said to him, “you tell her she’s in.”

Then, he began the walk back to Temple and his tent.

Wars needed generals; generals needed plans.

––––––––

I
t was all going rather well for Troy.

Beneath him was a lovely young thing who seemed designed entirely for his pleasure. Just barely eighteen. Her hair red and shoulder-length, freckles on every part of her body. He fucked her furiously, her body bent backwards beneath his weight. She held her shoulders off the ground with strong arms, practically doing a handstand upward into the hard thrusts of his big, meaty cock.

His room was located in the remains of a former game hall, converted over into a barracks. Troy was one of the few warriors to have his own room. Outside he could hear the other warriors milling about, some fucking their own catches for the day. Deeper outside, he heard the rumble of bikes as men patrolled the town of Temple.

His room was flooded with light—he wanted to see her, wanted her to see him. Her pale, supple, bouncy flesh so delectable. His cock, enormous and thick, nearly the size of the girl’s forearm, stretched out her tiny entrance and had made her howl with that hot, lovely mixture of pleasure and pain that Troy so loved to hear from women.

She had cum long ago, nearly at the point of his starting. His cock was just too big for anything else, riding up under the woman’s g-spot and pushing into it so perfectly. More pleasure than she knew what to do with.

Not that Troy cared all that much. He knew a woman’s place. Cumming wasn’t part of it. Enjoying sex wasn’t part of it. Enjoying sex was for the man and the man alone. That’s why it was nothing for him to slap at her meager tits, to tug at her hair, to bend her over like he did and fuck her so ruthlessly.