Date: Sun, 13 Nov 2016 19:19:25 +0000
From: Master Gilbert <LthrCigarMstr@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 3 of Biker Bar

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.