A Wolves Sweet Butt

She awoke from her deep sleep and her mouth was dry. It tasted like a sweaty bear's armpit and she tried with limited success to encourage saliva into her mouth. She licked her dry lips needing a drink.

"What a night!" She groaned and looked around her surroundings and groaned.

Yet another room she didn't recognise!

Sleeping bodies were strewn on the floor, sofas and anywhere that was remotely comfortable. Empty bottles of beer and cheap wine littered everywhere along with needles and tea spoons which was evidence of the drug fuelled parties she found herself at lately.

She didn't recognise these people, not really. Some were just acquaintances she knew who seemed to find themselves at the same drug houses.

She wasn't an addict though. She was just enjoying herself. Tomorrow she would stop, clean up, find a job, meet a nice guy and live the dream of a beautiful house and white picket fence and maybe start a family.

She looked at the man lying next to her on a mattress in the corner of the room. He was snoring, asleep on his stomach and his arm was lying across her chest. She had no idea who the hell he was and he was naked!

She was wearing a leather bodice, half tied and open at the front in a criss-cross fashion down the centre, a leather mini skirt that matched with same criss-crossed design on the side of her hips.

"Shit" she cussed as she realised that she had lost her panties again and most likely had had sex with this man. She saw used condoms and a few panties in the scattered items on the floor.

She couldn't even remember which were hers. She slid from the mattress on the floor and luckily found her shoulder bag beside where she had been lying along with her black thigh high boots. At least that was something!

She stepped over the sleeping people and found her way to the bathroom and freshened up as best as she could. She drank tap water from her cupped hands, swilled her mouth out, rubbed her teeth with her finger and washed her face.

In her bag she always carried mints to freshen her breath; face wipes to clean off her old make-up and lately to wipe her used pussy; mascara, eyeliner, lipstick and blusher to make her look and feel semi human again; a hair brush to tidy up her hair and twist it in a fresh bun again on top of her head. Wisps of hair fell down by her ears. Her youth made her attractive but on this chosen and self-destructive life path, in another 5 years, she would look older than her 21 years and much more haggard.

She straightened her clothes. She looked like a whore in the day light, especially with no panties but it wasn't the first time she had had to make her way back to her bedsit in these circumstances.

She returned to the room and searched a few coats and bags and found enough loose change to catch the bus home. It wasn't exactly stealing. They would do it to her if they had woken first. She couldn't find her jacket anywhere so took a red and black hoody top. It was a little large but actually looked quite nice on her. She decided to keep it. She needed something to cover her on the journey home and zipped it up and slipped out the front door of the crack house.

She walked a little unsteady on her high heeled black boots as the drink and drugs still swam in her blood stream. Luckily she recognised where she was and after a 15 minute walk, she found the bus stop she wanted and waited. The sun warmed her body but was too bright for her eyes this morning especially after the night before. She squinted and felt the faint throb of a headache and the beginnings of cramps in her tummy telling her it was time for her next fix.

She hadn't got anything else left to sell and wondered if she could pick pocket a purse or wallet on the way to the clinic. She had regular check-ups for sexually transmitted diseases and was given clean needles on the programme she had signed up for.

Suddenly a motor bike pulled up and a large silhouette of a man in leathers cast her in shadow. She recognised him immediately. He was Arson, an old friend who always seemed to turn up when she needed him.

"Get on the bike!" He ordered. He wasn't one to mess with. He threw her a spare helmet and she did as she was told.

"Arson, I can..." she began to explain.

"Forget it, I don't want to hear it," he hissed and revved the bike to drown out her sorry explanation.

The bike was big between her legs and she felt the thrill of the vibrations shake her bare pussy and clitoris as they touched the leather seat. She clung to his back and felt safe when she was with him. She shut her eyes, breathed in the smell of his leather jacket and let the feeling wash over her.

She could easily have an orgasm whilst holding him, but didn't want her pussy sensitive for the smear tests she was about to endure. She bit her lip and thought about the least sexual thing she could conjure up in her mind.

Banana Slugs! Yes Banana Slugs would do it! So called because of their yellow colouring -- big, slimy, sliding slugs!

He seemed to know her schedule for the clinic as he headed there. When she got off the bike to go in, he said, "I'll be back in 2 hours. Wait for me. Make sure they give you the certificate to show you are clean."

"Yes Sir," she mocked him and saluted.

She giggled when his brow furrowed and he growled. She knew behind his shades that his eyes were narrowed in warning. Still smiling, she turned, deliberately wiggled her butt and walked in to the clinic's reception.

She registered her attendance and then her thoughts returned to Arson. He was about 11 years older than her, really attractive and a hard man. He belonged to the local biker gang who controlled the area and protected the businesses. They were known as "Night Wolves" and were no doubt either involved with running those business or made them pay protection money to the gang. The Wolves had been here years and were well established in the community.

Arson had come across her in her teens when she had arrived in the town, having run off from an abusive home. She was about to be attacked by some feral youths she had stolen from and he had saved her. He had found her a bedsit to live and let her folks know at home, she was safe and wasn't coming back. She wasn't entirely sure what he had said to them, but they had never tried to contact or trace her since.

He had just told her that when he was ready, he would collect on the debt she owed him. That day hadn't come yet and he had done so much for her over the years. She would willingly follow him to the gates of hell and back. He was her protector and Guardian Angel.

The clinic nurse called her in to a private medical room. She was allowed to shower quickly and for the next 20 minutes or so she was subjected to blood tests and various mouth, anal and vaginal smears tests. She was processed, given new clean needles and condoms and told that the results would be ready in about 90 minutes.

Sure enough, about that time the nurse came out smiling with her certification. She had a clean bill of health this time.

Next came the lectures and leaflets about her risky lifestyle and she should seek help for her addiction.

She wasn't an addict though, she told the nurse who smiled sadly. She was just enjoying herself. Tomorrow she would stop, clean up, find a job, meet a nice guy and live the dream of a beautiful house and white picket fence and maybe start a family.

She skipped out of the clinic and saw Arson was outside as promised. She waved the certificate triumphantly at him and ran to him for a hug. He hugged her with one large arm still sitting on his bike.

"You passed then?" He confirmed.

She nodded excitedly and put the certificate and leaflets safely in her bag.

"Good," he said. "We have a brother returning home today. One important brother. Hun, I'm collecting on the debt you owe me." He waited to see how she would react.

Her heart skipped a beat. "What kind of thing am I expected to do?"

"Nothing you haven't been doing already." He answered her gruffly. "Entertain. Not refuse any sexual favours and this bits optional, it's up to you if you want to drink and take drugs."

"But not the sex. The sex isn't optional," She said flatly.

"That's right. It's a party Hun and you get a free meal and drug fixes. You are there for the brothers and guests."

She swallowed. Suddenly she felt cheap and for the first time realised the downward spiral her life was taking. Before when she had been partying, she had taken drugs, drank liquor and had had sex a plenty but only if she had felt like it. It was her choice.

Now she was being told to attend a party for that very purpose. That made her nothing more than a common whore.

"And if I don't want to?" She asked, slightly curious.

"Malana," He used her full name, "You don't refuse a Night Wolves request."

"No, I don't suppose you do. Will you be there?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes. A brother is being released from the clink. We will all be there."

"What time do you need me?" She wanted to know her schedule, to plan her day between fixes. She would need to see her dealer.

"Oh, you are coming with me now. I don't trust you to turn up on time. I can already see your brain ticking over for your next fix."

She felt a panic begin to rise in her, the cramps in her stomach were getting worst. She needed that fix.

"But... but..." She began to protest.

"Get on the bike, Mal. We can sort you out back at "The Barn." He threw her the helmet and she sat astride his bike, still fastening it and forcing herself to again think of Banana slugs, as he revved on purpose and roared off.

The Barn was the club house where the Biker group hung out. It was out the way, in a rural part of town, and was heavily guarded by the biker brothers. The line of bikes outside, in the fenced yard, were expensive and impressive.

She entered the club house. Other women were there, hanging close to their leather clad biker friends and lovers. They looked at her with mild interest and saw she was with Arson.

The men greeted each other. One of the women got up to make Arson and Malana coffee and a sandwich.

Arson spoke to one member of the club who then took Mal to a back room to receive a controlled heroine fix. A short time later she returned to Arson relaxed and happy.

"You belong to The Night Wolves now Hun." He told her. "No more running the streets. You are a Sweet Butt for us. Maybe one day someone will choose you as their Old Lady." Arson pushed her plate with her sandwich and a fresh coffee in front of her. "Now Eat."

Malana smiled at him, buoyed by her recent heroin fix. She was glad Arson had finally bought her into the club. So she wasn't a whore then after all. Now she would belong somewhere and would have the protection of the Night Wolves. Her life had been pretty much chaotic and getting worst with no real direction before this. Now she would have a family. Now she was in his world at last and a Wolves Sweet Butt.

She ate her sandwich and looked at Arson. "Thank you. Thank you for looking after me. I won't let you down."

Arson smiled down at her. His protective instinct always kicked in with her. She was a small pretty little thing. He would see after tonight. Maybe he would make her his "Old Lady" one day, but first he needed to see if she had the loyalty and stamina to be worthy of that honour.

By that afternoon, the old authentic jukebox had been stocked up with the latest hits and the women had decorated The Barn with "Welcome Home" banners and balloons. The bar had been stocked up with beers, wines and liquors by the men and the food had been collected for the buffet later that night. All was set for "The Rockster's" return.

Malana had helped out and was introduced to some of the other "Sweet Butts."

She took instruction and worked alongside Stiletto, 23 years and Ebony, 24 years who quickly pointed out the Old Ladies and their men. They explained to her, she did not speak to them unless spoken to, did as she was told by them or any of the Wolves and if she was used for sex, afterwards she carried on like nothing happened. The Wolves couldn't abide jealous women and the Old Ladies would not like transgressions waved in their faces.

There was a pecking order, Malana quickly learned, with the men who had specific ranks in the Night Wolves and their women were duly respected, depending where their men were in that rank.

The "Sweet Butts" of course were bottom of the pile and would remain there till one of The Wolves took one of them for their woman.

When that happened, the chosen woman would become an Old Lady and would not then be expected to give sexual favours to all the club and chosen associates. She would be expected to stay faithful to her Night Wolf.

Malana could tell there was an affectionate camaraderie and a strong loyalty among the members. She was glad she had been bought in to join this special group of people and had already started to regard them as her new family.

Ebony and Stiletto took her to the back of the premises where there was a set of 5 bedrooms. All were en-suite, contained double beds, a bed settee if required and dressing table and wardrobe. These are used by The Wolves visiting guests or entertainment, they explained to her.

Sometimes, they were used by the senior wolves if they wished an accompanied night away from their Old Lady. It was an unspoken rule, they were out of town on business and who and what happened in the bedroom was never discussed.

"This is the one you and Stiletto will use with The Rockster," Ebony told her showing one of the rooms. She quickly pointed out where the dildos and wands were, the wipes, the towels, the massage oils, lubes and robes. She opened another drawer where there were paddles, ropes, whips and spreader bars. Malana's eyes bulged and wondered what half were used for.

"Don't worry," Stiletto assured her, "You will soon learn about them and I heard that The Rockster is more straight than kinky and after 10 years inside for Armed Robbery, he will just want to enjoy the company of young female bodies." She paused and looked dreamy for a second, "I heard he was real hot for 49 and he hasn't got an Old Lady yet. It could be our lucky night." She seemed real excited by the prospect.

A knock came at the door. One of the younger Wolves spoke as Ebony answered it. "Get ready Ladies, The Rockster is only 10 minutes away." It was still early afternoon.

They had both showered and shaved earlier in the day so they just needed to put on the finishing touches.

"That's our cue," Ebony told them. "Your outfits are in the wardrobes. Get ready girls and I'll be your maid for the time he wants you. There's a charged mobile by the bed with my number under 1 in the memory and a bell-boys bell, you can "ding-ding" for me. I will be hanging around outside to fetch anything you might need... food, drink or drugs. Just enjoy yourselves," she giggled.

Stiletto and Malana dressed in the matching black lacy bodice with red ties, black stockings and suspenders. Their naked breasts hung out over the top and their pussy and bottoms were bare.

Stiletto lived up to her name and placed 5 inch "Fuck me now" red heeled shoes upon her delicate feet.

Malana kept her black thigh high boots on but they were now polished and delicately perfumed. Both of them necked a couple of vodka fruit shots to help them along for the night.

Stiletto looked stunning in the sexy underwear with her shaved bald pussy and 34C breasts, blonde plaited hair and blue eyes.

Malana, in contrast and in spite of her drug habit, had a fuller figure in the matching outfit with 36D breasts and a dark trimmed pubic hair strip. Her brown hair was tied up in a bun with sexy wisps falling down by her ears. She hid the needle marks on her arms with foundation make-up.

Stiletto used some strawberry flavoured oil and rubbed some in her nipples, pussy and anal passage. She produced a rose coloured jewelled, stainless steel butt plug and threw the bottle of oil to Malana, "Tricks of the trade," she told her. "If I was you, I'd wear a butt plug too. It helps stretch you and is less painful. He will love finding it and pulling it out."

Malana found a small one in a drawer and took it to the toilet with the oil. It was stainless steel too with an amethyst coloured diamond cut stone to cover her anal star. She douched out her anal passage and used a mixture of Vaseline and the strawberry oil to ease it slowly inside her. She also took advantage and injected another controlled drug fix for the evening. It had been thoughtfully prepared for her and bought to the room.

Unknown to her, Arson was the head enforcer at the biker's club and worked closely with the Sergeant in Arms known as Diesel. Arson was now controlling and monitoring her drug intake with the help of the other enforcer brothers.

While Malana was "jacking up," Stiletto turned on some soft rock music to play. It melodically filled the room and set the atmosphere for the fun to come.

Finally both Malana and Stiletto were set for The Rockster's return.

Outside the bikes roared in. The Rockster had been collected by his brothers and his bike taken in a van to him. He grinned when he saw it and was given his leather jacket and helmet. At last he'd feel the pleasure of the open road and freedom once again. They rode back in convoy to The Barn and were an impressive sight with their Night Wolf emblem on their backs.

When they all pulled into the yard, there was a rush of members outside. A receiving party to welcome the men home.

Greetings, fun ribbing, man hugs and back slaps followed before he was ushered inside. He saw the effort his brothers had gone to and he was visibly touched.

"Thank you guys," The Rockster muttered.

"Welcome Home Rockster," Blaze, The Founder and Leader of the club told him.

There was a genuine affection and trust between the two men. "First though, we have a special surprise for you," and with much frivolity and cheers, The Rockster was ushered towards the back room where Stiletto and Malana were waiting for him.

"We'll see you in about 3 hours for the party later," Diesel, the Sergeant at Arms told him.

It was the Sergeant's job to enforce club procedures and maintain order at their club meetings. Diesel, together with Arson, was in charge of security at club events and he was responsible for "back-ups" (attacks on rivals). They also looked after the club's firearms and other weapons.

The eager group continued to surge forwards and The Rockster was soon before the door of the "welcome home" bedroom. He was pushed inside and the door was slammed shut. No one would disturb them now unless they asked. Ebony took up her place outside, like a sentry, to be called on when required.

The Rockster was an impressive man at 49. He was 6ft tall, dark and handsome with a dark goatee beard. He was proportionately built and time in the prison gym had given him a muscular physique women would swoon at. Add that to tight fitting jeans, his black leather patched jacket over his black tee shirt and wild-boy tattoos, he was a potent specimen to the opposite sex.

He looked at the "Sweet Butts" provided for him and liked what he saw. An MFF was most men's fantasy and he was going to enjoy them for sure.

Stiletto and Malana stared in awe at him and then introduced themselves. Stiletto moved first and pulled him by the hand to the centre of the room. She dropped to her knees, opened his fly and brought his cock out to her velvet mouth. She was certainly experienced for she flattened her tongue and slowly licked from the base to the tip. As she did so, she looked up at The Rockster with doe eyes. Her technique was utterly incredible and obscene. He hardened instantly as he watched and felt that naughty tongue.