The Bier Bar

A few guys started calling it a "biker bar" but I hated that name. I didn't even like it called a bar. I had a pizza café with a nice bar. I served really great pizza. I had a good group of regular customers. Customers came from miles around, some in groups that had their special nights each week. The "Thursday night group" was about a dozen guys from a gated community further north. The "Monday night group" was a blue-collar bunch from our neighborhood. I had a nice quiet place, until some bikers showed up one Saturday night and just sorta took over.

I didn't think much of it until they came back a week later. They behaved themselves – not rowdy or loud, you understand. But they just had that look. You know, people were scared of them. I know I was sure scared. I served them, of course, and I was nice. But, I kept wishing they wouldn't come back. But they did. Every Saturday night for a month. And when they got there the other folks just left. Some saw the bikes outside and never came in. Some even left after they had placed their order, leaving money on the table to cover it. People were scared.

I knew, I just knew, that sooner or later something bad was gonna happen. I just didn't know what it would be. Well, it did. And it was worse than I could have imagined. It was another Saturday night like before and about a dozen bikers show up with a half dozen gals. They park their bikes in front and order pitchers of beer and a dozen of my special large pizzas. "Spread 'em out" they said, meaning not all at the same time. Like before, my regular customers paid up and left, or decided not to order and left, or put down some money to cover what they had ordered and left. Then there was just me and my cook and the bikers.

It started like the previous Saturday nights. But when it changed, it changed so fast it was hard to keep up with what was happening. I was back in the kitchen when it started. I heard some shouting and some breaking glass and some chairs falling on the floor and I ran back into the restaurant. It was all over by the time I got there. I looked around the room and I almost went into shock.

There were four bikers on the floor unconscious. A couple more were laying on the floor holding their hands over bleeding wounds in their arms. The rest were holding their hands in the air in the classic position of surrender. The gals were sitting there staring at the floor. Over a dozen guys, obviously bikers that I had never seen before, had taken over the room with chains in their hands or switchblades. And one had snub nose revolver.

I put the situation together in an instant. A rival biker gang had hit my place suddenly and knifed or chain-clobbered half the guys and cowered the rest. One guy seemed to be in charge. He walked over to me and started talking in a calm voice that had a lot of authority.

"Okay mister. You got nothing to worry about. Don't call anybody. If the cops show up you're dead. Keep on serving the pizza and beer, just like nothing has happened. We got somebody outside to discourage any customers. We'll be an hour or so, and then we'll be gone. You got that?"

I nodded. "I got it. I'm not gonna cause you any trouble."

I went back in the kitchen and told my cook what was happening and told him to keep cooking and not call anybody. There were two large pizzas ready to serve so I cut them into slices and took them out. The new biker gang had helped themselves to the beer and now they picked up slices of hot pizza from the two trays.

"Damn good pizza!" Said the boss biker, who was called Zack by the others. "You got more coming?"

"Yeah," I answered. "There'll be a couple every fifteen minutes or so."

I looked around. The intruders had tied up the other bikers using plastic ties on their hands and feet. Even the ones that were unconscious were tied up. The guys with the knife wounds were off to the side in chairs with a couple of guards. One guy that I recognized as the boss of the gang that frequented my place was tied to one of the columns that ran down the center of the room. He was glaring back at his rivals, openly defiant.

"Where's his woman?" Zack asked. And a shapely biker gal, blond with prominent boobs was dragged from a chair to face him.

"You belong to Rex?" Zack asked.

She hawked up saliva from her throat and spit in his face. Zack wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. Then he walked around her looking her body up and down from both sides and nodding.

"Strip the bitch. Let's see what she's got."

She struggled but with three guys pulling and cutting and tearing her clothes off she had little chance. In no time at all she was down to panties and bra.

"Let me finish her," said Zack. He walked over to her taking out his switchblade and cutting the strap connecting the cups of her bra in front. As it fell away he cupped her very large, creamy white breasts in his hands and played with them.

"Nice tits," he said.

Rex struggled with the guys holding him against the column. "You filthy bastard," he shouted.

Zack casually turned and looked at Rex. "Spread his legs," he commanded and the guys holding him obeyed. When they spread his legs, Zack, without saying a word, walked over and kicked Rex in the groin with his booted foot. The pain must have been excruciating. Rex couldn't even cry out. He groaned, arms struggling to protect his testicles and he collapsed. He would have fallen to the floor but his arms tied to the column held him up. His face was contorted in agonizing pain.

Zack turned back to the girl. He took his switchblade and cut the thin straps of her bikini panties and jerked them off leaving her naked.

"Nice," he said looking at the naked girl. She stood proudly, shoulders back, tits standing out firm, flat belly, and thick hairy beaver.

"Fuck you! You bastard!" She shouted defiantly at Zack.

"No honey, it's the other way round. We're gonna fuck you. I'm gonna let the boys loosen you up before I take my turn. You'll be a little more tame and a little bit sore when I fuck you."

He turned and started giving orders. "Take care of those bleeders – I don't want anybody dead that doesn't have to be. Make sure the others are tied up tight – I don't want anybody to get loose and cause trouble. Tell Lenny outside that nobody comes in here."

Then he turned to the five girls sitting there. "Okay gals. Listen up. You can stay with your guys or go with us. Your choice. We can always take on a few extra bitches. Rex's boys are finished anyway and we'll probably pick up a couple of them before very long, maybe even tonight. You wanna ride with us, just get outside with Lenny. You really don't wanna see what's gonna happen in here."

Three of the girls got up and walked outside. The other two stayed where they were for a moment and then, pointing to two of the wounded guys, they got up and walked over to help bandage their wounds.

"You found a place?" Zack asked one of the guys that had been holding Rex's girl Patti.

"Yeah," the guy answered. "We put some pads from the seats on the floor in back."

"Okay guys take her back there and fuck her. I want her well used and tame when I dip my wick. Now lets take care of this asshole Rex."

Zack walked over to where Rex was tied to the pillar. He was hanging by his arms almost on the floor, his face covered with sweat and he was obviously in severe pain from the hard kick Zack had delivered to his testicles.

"Get him on his feet. Tie him if you have to. I want him standing up when I do it. Cut his clothes off him. I want the bastard naked. He's caused me enough trouble over the past couple of years and I'm gonna fix him so he'll be harmless in the future."

His men followed his orders and trussed Rex up in a standing position, tied securely to the column. Then they began to cut off his clothing. In minutes he was standing there naked. He was a muscular young man with a hairy chest and he stood proudly looking defiantly at his captor, in spite of his obvious pain.

The cook brought out anther couple of pizzas and I put them in reach of the bikers. Then I filled some more pitchers with beer. When I went to the back of the restaurant I saw a small group of guys surrounding a couple, fucking on the floor. Some pads from bench seats were arranged on the floor and one of the guys was fucking Patti and several were standing around watching and waiting their turn. She must have resisted at first because her face was bruised and bleeding, but now she just laid there and took it.

When I looked down at her, one of the guys turned to me. "This is the third guy. I'm next. She's quit fighting now. She's just laying there. Must have been good pussy once. She's really built. Jeeze! Look at those tits. The boss wants her well used when he fucks her. She's Rex's woman and Rex has been a lot of trouble for Zack."

I felt sorry for this poor girl. But I told myself she was a biker girl, not some innocent virgin. She chose this life. When I went back to the main room Zack was taunting Rex. Laughing at him. Then he reached down and grabbed his testicles. Standing eye to eye with him he started to squeeze. Rex seemed determined not to show pain. His face was frozen in a determined look of hate for his tormentor and he was gritting his teeth. But I knew he had no chance – no chance at all. Zack squeezed him slowly ever tighter and I could see Rex tremble as he tried to control his pain, which must have been intolerable. I could see the pride – the defiance, but I knew he would lose and when he did, Zack would laugh at him.

The scream, when it came, was horrible. Rex had held out as long as he could but the end was inevitable. He gasped for air and screamed and collapsed into unconsciousness, held up only by the plastic ties that bound him to the column.

"I have waited a long time to hear that scream," said Zack. "Tough man. Yeah, a big tough man. But, did you hear that scream? Now I'm gonna hear him beg. I want to hear the bastard beg. Wake him up!"

One of the guys picked up a pitcher of beer and poured the full pitcher on the unconscious Rex. He slapped him in the face a few times and then they lifted him up and tied him more securely in a standing position. Rex looked frantically around the room, as if looking for help, but then stared at Zack once more and that look of hatred and defiance returned to his face.

Zack laughed. Then he reached down again, slowly, and grabbed Rex's testicles and started to squeeze. Rex met his eyes. Still defiant. "Fuck you!" He said.

"You got it wrong. Just like your bitch. Patti is the one gettin' fucked. We're gang banging her now and when my boys are finished with her I'm gonna fuck her myself. After I finish with your balls, I'm gonna fuck your woman. But first, I'm gonna squeeze your balls and make you beg."

Turning to his guys he said, "When he begs, I'll stop and let him rest a while. Now watch the bastard beg."

He didn't beg. And Zack just kept squeezing his testicles harder. He didn't hold out as long as before. The pain must have been unbearable and he screamed again. It was the same horrible scream of pain and anguish, but his bindings prevented his collapse. His head dropped on his chest, as blessed unconsciousness brought relief. Zack let go of his testicles and smiled. He motioned to a guy with a pitcher of beer who threw the beer in Rex's face and slapped him back to consciousness.

"I've got all night. He's gonna beg." Zack looked Rex directly in the eye. "You're gonna beg you bastard. I'm gonna hear you beg."

I felt guilty somehow, watching what was happening but I couldn't tear myself away. I knew that Rex would break, sooner or later. This was agonizing pain that no human being could possibly tolerate. He would break. He had to break. Incredibly Rex tolerated the pain a third time. But this time only briefly. Again he was awakened with beer thrown into his face.

The next time Zack took hold of Rex's testicles he finally broke down, babbling incoherently, whimpering, and begging him to stop. Saying "please" and anything else he could think of to avoid that pain again. It was pathetic. Pitiful. But it was the inevitable outcome.

"God, I wanted to hear that. I been wantin' to hear that bastard beg me. And he did! I oughta cut his balls off, but I won't. Okay guys. Squeeze 'em a little – have your fun with him. Hey Buddy – you go first – remember that beating he gave you."

The guy who had been throwing beer in Rex's face set the pitcher down and walked up to Rex, a look of hate on his face. He reached down and grabbed Rex's swollen testicles and when Rex started babbling and begging he just kept on squeezing until the horrendous pain caused Rex to collapse unconscious again. All the guys were laughing and taking turns punishing him. By now, the slightest touch to his swollen testicles caused him to scream.

Zack watched a few minutes. "That gal of his has had her last fuck from this bastard for while. His balls are gonna be in a sling for a long time. And he's not gonna be mounting a bike any time soon. His boys will be gone by the time he can." He laughed.

The cook brought out more pizza for the bikers. Jesus, I thought. I'll never forget this night. The bikers were drinking beer and eating pizza and laughing at the most ungodly, insufferable torment I have ever seen. Patti in the back must be on her tenth biker by now and I'm watching this whole disgusting thing live.

Zack was laughing softly, watching what his guys were doing to Rex. Rex was standing there tied to the column, hanging there would be a better description, head down, helpless awaiting his captors will. His defiance was gone. His pride was gone. He was begging and whimpering constantly. He was hoarse from screaming. His testicles were swollen to more than twice their normal size, and so exquisitely sensitive to even the slightest touch that torturing him was easy. His enemies were laughing at his helplessness.

"Looks like he's about ready for it now," Zack said. "Cut him down and take him over to that table. Buddy, you want to do him?"

They cut the plastic ties holding Rex and carried him over to a table, kicking the chairs away. Throwing him onto the table on his belly, they used plastic ties to bind his arms to the table on one side and spread his legs and bound them to two table legs on the other. When he was spread-eagled and helpless Zack watched as Budy opened a bottle of beer and dumped the contents on the floor. Then he stepped up to Rex he began to twist the mouth of the bottle into Rex's anus, slowly working it in deeper.

"Way to go Buddy," said Zack. "Shove it up his ass."

I watched in horror as the bottle was gradually pushed into Rex deeper and deeper until the thick part of the bottle began to stretch his anus wide. I thought that Rex was beyond the point of feeling more pain, but he began a hoarse grunting and as the full thickness of the bottle entered his anus he screamed hoarsely and frantically moved his body in a futile effort to escape. When almost the entire bottle had been shoved into him, Buddy stepped back and walked around to look at Rex's pain racked face – distorted now beyond recognition.

"Cut his guys loose and get 'em over here," said Zack. "I want 'em to look at the guy they thought was a real tough boss."

When this was done and Rex's bikers surrounded their helpless boss, Zack said, "Any of you guys want to quit this bum and work for me, I'll take you on."

Then laughing he said, "Anybody else want to shove something up his ass just go right ahead. Hell, you can fuck him if you want to! I'm gonna go back there and fuck his bitch. She ought to be about ready for it now."

The cook waved his hand to get my attention and I walked over to the bar. He asked me if he should start some more pizza and I told him I thought our guests would be departing shortly. I was right. In a few minutes Zack returned from the back zipping up his fly, followed by two of his bikers who had the naked Patti supported between them barely conscious, with a large amount of bloody seminal fluid dripping down both thighs to below her knees.

Zack gave orders to get both groups of bikers organized and out of the restaurant. They cut Rex's bindings and two bikers with his arms around their shoulders carried him out front, naked and semiconscious, blood dripping from his anus and running down his legs. Some of the gals were going to drive with wounded guys on the back of their bikes. Before I realized what was happening I was standing there alone with Zack, listening to the bikes drive off outside.

"You'll probably want to call the cops," Zack said, "but don't do it right away. After an hour or so. You understand? Okay?"

I nodded. I had had my fill of bikers and I was not going to piss this guy off. With any luck my Saturday night regulars were not going to be disturbed by bikers in the future. Only an hour, but the whole thing seemed surrealistic – like a horrible nightmare. But it was over now.