Chapter 1

Way up north in the Pacific Northwest in that part of United States where the density of population is slender beyond belief, there exists a certain flavor of attitude that gives credence to this story of danger and thrills, of sex and pleasure, and of the crucial need for survival when the vestiges of accepted behavior are gone by the wayside.

In the land of wild beasts in the forest and ladies of the night in the cities, the contrast of cultures is both stark and disconcerting. The limited urban areas are blighted and populated by the parasites and scavengers of society looking to "make a buck" by any means possible. The very fact that concepts like art in all its forms and gentle sensitive natures even exist is a minor miracle in itself. The cities are magnets for sweet young things that swiftly become sponges of hedonistic destruction and moral despair. The flesh peddling clubs preying on gullible female flesh and hungry male fantasies churn out pole dancing sexperts with tattoos as badges of courage. Most of the girls are from "normal" up-bringing and well-intentioned parenting but the lure of the easy buck is far too tempting for a regular nine to five job or the making of a home.

Let us hone in on a case in point.

Zelda was a pretty young thing scraping out a living working for almost three years in the "Gentlemen's Club" circuit of a major Pacific Northwest city. On the surface, she was quite average in appearance and would not attract attention in almost any setting. It was at night that she came alive and her twisting gyrating body twirled around the thick metal pole like a serpent from Biblical times in the Garden of Eden. She was a strong girl and had even considered a semi-professional career in woman's wrestling before she decided that the "tips" in her garter belt was more fulfilling.

When she was still in that "pre-getting fucked" stage of naïve thought processes, the pretty Zelda dreamed of becoming a designer for stage productions or even some high fashion company in need of her creations. All of that came to a screeching halt when she came to the attention of a small and rather vicious motorcycle gang that had its "office" halfway between Zelda's house and the school that she had attended for several years. It was the week of her graduation from school and just after her eighteenth birthday that Zelda crossed her path with Deshawn and Desmond Brown visiting the gang's clubhouse from the Los Angeles chapter of the same infamous gang that seemed to continue in criminal activities despite many arrests and inter-gang related violence.

Now, the truth of the matter is that Deshawn was quite the handsome young lad all decked out in his black leathers and devilish moustache that dominated his facial features. His older brother Desmond was not as pretty and presented a brutish appearance at first glance. Those that knew them well understood that Deshawn was the impulsive troublemaker and that Desmond was the "brains" of the duo.

When they both saw Zelda come walking by the clubhouse with her pink leggings and pretty pigtail that made her look much younger, they swooped down on her like some birds of prey spotting a prime target within their easy reach.

"Where you going, little Miss Perfect?"

Zelda had to giggle because Deshawn was so blatant in his approach that it was obvious the only thing he had on his mind was pussy. Desmond didn't say a word letting his handsome brother do all the talking. She stopped to talk to Deshawn because she was in no hurry to get to school and meet up with the two girls who had been bullying her of late with their nasty attitude about her still being a virgin. In the back of her mind, Deshawn seemed the perfect opportunity to break out of that mold and show those two Irish bitches she was no virgin and not someone who could be bullied. Of course, neither Deshawn nor Desmond knew she was that ripe for the taking because they had expected more of a rejection by the normal-looking schoolgirl.

It was relatively easy for them to talk her into coming into the clubhouse to check out the fresh weed they had brought in from the farm hidden inside the National Forest. She had smoked a few joints behind the girl's bathroom on the sport's field and remembered how nice they made her feel without a care in the world. Besides, it wasn't allowed and that made it even more exciting and tingly to her ever-present pussy.

The other members were all out on a run into the High Country to check out some connections with a red-neck group that needed lots of weed for their celebrations.

"OK, Miss Perfect, let's see you get up on that pool table show us what you got."

Zelda giggled and replied,

"My name is not Miss Perfect, it is Zelda and what I got you can't have."

That sort of upset Deshawn and he roughly yanked off the girl's skirt and panties leaving her naked from the waist down.

"Now, let's see some dancing Zelda and I mean the kind of dancing that will make our dicks nice and hard."

Zelda suddenly realized she was in big time trouble but she really had no option other than to do was she was told. Perhaps they would be satisfied with her dancing and not try any funny business like sticking their things in her pussy or her ass or even her mouth. She had it in the mouth before but not the other stuff and was a bit frightened at the prospect. Her dancing was sensuous but uninspired and after a while the two men tired of her naked display and pulled her down into an "all fours" position on top of the pool table. Desmond held her arms immobile and Deshawn mounted her pretty ass and sodomized her without saying a single word. She was so surprised that all she could say was,