The four women stood in silence as the judge read, the verdict from the jury, he then read out their fate. For her part this older woman, who wore all the finery, if one could call a bikie jacket a very brief and revealing blouse, tight leather jeans and a hair style that was the trademark of this particular cycle club, listened as she was given a sentence of four years. She just gave a grunt, for there was nothing more to be said, however, her companions who were just bikie women, available to any member and not loyal to any particular bikie, let fly with the discuss they had for the entire legal system; they were still screaming when led away, for her part as she was led to the cells below and let her mind travel back to that day, some three years before when she became a bikie whore.
For over three months she and her partner had travelled through out Europe, she was happy and content and believed without any hesitation that her partner loved her. Time and again he would say "You are very beautiful Maureen, I feel a pride and honour in being your companion", and softly in an intimate moment which always made her giggle, he would say "You are a fantastic fuck" and thrust so deeply inside her as he released his balls, her bum would rise inches off the bed and her gasp would vibrate around the walls.
However, that morning when she found herself alone she thought his absence was to give her a surprise, as had happened on other occasions, it was a surprise but not a pleasant one, and it was in the form of a letter sitting on the table. At first she hadn't noticed it, she got up had a shower and it was while drying her hair that she found it. Puzzled she tore it opened and as she read the lines, she turned a sickly grey and began to shake:
'My dear it has been a rewarding and rememberable time with you but it has reached the stage I must move on. You will find your papers etc in the top drawer, however, I have arranged for you not to be totally alone. I have known for awhile the president of the local bikie club and suggested that you would make a good addition. When he asked why I told him you were a fantastic fuck, could do wonders with your mouth and to give it to you up the backside was a 'fuck that one wouldn't forget'. He was impressed and by the time you read this, he should be almost there. Farewell Maureen and thanks. – Pettra.
Her only reaction was a gasp and to drop the letter and she was still standing, almost a statue when the door opened and in came a rough, unshaven hulk of a bloke. "Old Pettra was right", he said. "You are all woman". Only then did she realise that apart from the towel, which she had let drop when she picked up the letter she was naked. She gave a gasp. He grabbed her, giving her tits a rough feel and ramming his fingers up her very hairy cunt. He then turned as another bikie came in and said. "Get the officers; we have a recruit to sample". Pushing her onto the bed he almost tore his trousers off, pulled her legs apart and within seconds rammed his prick home. She bucked as he fucked her, clawing at her tits till they bruised. He blew, filling her totally but as he got off his officers were waiting and for the next hour those bikies fucked her and even then after they had all done her singly, she was pulled down onto an erection and it was shoved up her arse and then pulled back so her cunt could take another cock and again time sailed past as she was 'double dipped' and forced to suck.
She was manhandled down to where the bikes were and roughly pushed into a sidecar and with a raw of engines they left the village behind and headed to their headquarters, a headquarters she would get to know for it was there she was branded so all in the club and other clubs would know she was the 'president's woman', and his alone although on special occasions she was also the woman to his invited friends.
The club members formed a guard of honour as she was led in. He introduced her as his woman and immediately a chant went up, especially by the other women and there were many, 'brand her, make the cunt one of us', 'give her tits the symbol of ownership, like we all bare' came the cry as a number of women bared their tits, clearly displaying the mark of an axe, the club symbol, permanently engraved above the nipple of one tit. Protesting was useless, she was stripped and laid on a table, tightly held, a red hot poker in the shape of an axe was level as her vibrating tit and while a bikie mounted her, shoving his cock up her cunt, the poker came down onto that lilly white flesh and that was all she remembered.
For a week her only visitors were other women, who applied a sort of lubricant to those very sore 'charlies', slowly the pain disappeared but when she finally fronted the mutilation in the mirror she broke down. So marked was she that it was a mark that would forever remain, no skin grafts would ever remove the mark, it was so deeply engraved. Each tit bore the shape of an axe, luckily she was heavily endowed in the tit section so that the axe symbol didn't appear so big, but it was a mark that would stand out like a beckon when ever she was topless and she was to find out that going topless at 'bikie do's' was what was expected, especially from the 'president's woman', or what others called the 'club's queen'.
It took some time and only when she was told that all women bore the mark, for them it was only one tit that had been branded, however, as she was 'top woman' both her udders were marked, to realise what she now was. "It is to show that you are the president's woman", one of the other women told her. "You are his property and only on his invitation are you to be served by other members. On the other hand we are available to any bloke who takes a fancy, we are loyal to no one, but we can choose a particular bikie, but that does not make us his property, as you are to the president."
Gradually as the days turned to weeks and the week to months and the months to years, she became a member, but for that to happen she had to be initiated and that occurred some weeks after those two mountains of flesh got used to having a axe virtually carved into them. She was led to the centre of the rooms, by the women and there removed of her clothes she was laid out and one by one those club members fucked her, for the members it was there only change to enjoy her, to fuck her cunt and her bum and they were going to lap it up, the whole initiation lasted for well over three hours so by the time the last cock had exploded she was so buggered that she had to be carried to her room, as the members clapped and the women voiced their approval, before available themselves to who ever wanted them.
She had no choice to accept what had landed in her plate and as her tits were the largest among the women at ever bikie do she was the first that had to 'show your tits' on the stage and of course that led to cries 'show your cunt' till she would be naked and performing acts that would only lead to the president and his invited guests fucking her till they couldn't get another hard-on. She was also the one that was invited to other clubs and again she had to take what was offered, and sometimes such lengths would be shoved up her that her cry would echo from the walls of the clubs which would only give encouragement and the fucking would begin again.
It was only when the cell door closed that she was back in the world of reality a world that she would have to get used to, as she had got used to being a bikie whore; a woman who had hardened over the years from one that would barely say a wrong word to one that could equal every four letter every recorded and one that would fight to maintain a position or privilege, as she would find out in prison where she had to on more than one occasion tear into another woman to prove she was 'top dog'.
Over time the motor bike club was getting to large so in a meeting it was decided to split the club into two chapters and as there was no hostility in the club, those who wanted to stay, stayed in the area they new while other decided to branch out and one of the individuals who decided to more was 'Tattooed Jack', a bloke who took to tattooing as an art form and a good part of his body was like an art gallery. 'Well we will have to find a location', he said to others who had decided to move.
Over the next week their bikes burnt the tar till they came across a place for rent, overlooking the coast and a marine anchorage. 'This is nice' Tattoo Jack said. 'It is large enough for us, has ample room for the bikes and a large veranda and a nice view. It would be ideal for parties'.
.... There is more of this story ...