*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*
Britney loved the Harley-Davidson Electra-glide; loved kicking it into life, feeling the powerful motor rumble to life, loved feeling the motor vibrate between her legs. She loved taking the motorcycle down to the pockmarked Highway 171; each bump and jolt driving the leather seat into her crotch.
She'd bought the motorcycle as a late twenty first birthday present for herself, along with a bar in Holly Bridge, Mississippi. She renamed the Magnolia Lounge the Fleur De Lis and spread the word that there was a new Lesbian bar near the Mississippi State College campus.
Britney looked up at the kitchen window of the small home that she and Chin Li shared. For a moment, she saw Chin Li's face in the window, and then the small face disappeared.
She double-checked her helmet chin strap, stomped her foot down on the gear peg and surged forward. Twenty minutes later, she pulled up to the bar and smiled. There were nine trucks and four cars in the parking lot, and six other motorcycles.
Britney frowned as she spotted Sandy's Kawasaki 900, the garish green crotch rocket almost an insult to the other chrome monsters around it.
"Fucking bitch better not give me shit tonight; I just ain't in the fucking mood," Britney muttered.
Britney took off her helmet and pulled her purse out of the small storage compartment. She rummaged around in the purse and found her hairbrush.
She brushed her short blonde hair and shook her head as Mickey, the burley bouncer, whistled at her.
"You're fucking gorgeous, Wertmuller; just get in there, huh?" Mickey playfully teased her boss.
Lesbian or not, motorcycle or not, Britney was feminine, liked looking pretty, liked looking her best. She used to have long blonde hair, but a motorcycle helmet made long hair impractical, and sometimes unsafe. But, her short hair was styled in a manner that framed her beautiful face.
"What's up?" Britney asked casually, making sure that her lace blouse was still tucked into the red leather shorts.
"Nothing, couple of football players from that high school drove by, screaming all kind of shit, but that's about it," Mickey said, giving Britney an appraising glance.
Britney had found out, within a month of opening, that college town or not, some people weren't exactly open-minded about an openly gay bar in their midst. After a few cars had been vandalized, Britney took to hiring off-duty police and ex-military women to act as bouncers slash parking lot security.
"And of course, you scared the shit out of them," Britney said, glancing at the gun strapped to mickey's hip.
"Naw, fucking know how expensive bullets are?" Mickey laughed. "I pull this, somebody's going to get hit, that's all I got to say."
Britney gave the burly woman a quick, friendly kiss, and sauntered into the dark club.
A few people called out to her; she greeted some with waves, others she gave quick hugs, and two of them she completely ignored.
"Hey," she said to Marge, the old woman behind the bar, leaned over and gave the woman a quick kiss.
She laughed as Marge tried to force her tongue into her mouth.
"About six stools down, red hat," Marge hissed, putting a shot glass in front of Britney.
Marge smirked as Britney gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Marge knew Britney's tastes; Britney liked them small, liked them young, and liked them scared, defenseless. Britney liked victims, damaged women. The more insecure, the better.
And the girl with the red baseball cap was right up Britney's alley. Barely five feet tall, with long brown hair, slim figure, and scared out of her mind.
According to Mickey, the girl had sat in her car for nearly fifteen minutes before finally getting the courage to open her car door. From her car, the girl nearly ran for the door of the bar.
From the door, Marge had watched the girl's skittish travel to the long, tall bar. Once the girl finally decided on a stool, she'd barely whispered her request for a rum and coke.
"You old enough, Sweetie?" Marge had asked, not unkindly.
"Yes ma'am," the girl had whispered and pulled out an obviously fake ID.
Marge didn't care; the police had not once raided the place and most likely wouldn't raid it now. They were too afraid of the negative press that raiding an openly gay bar would bring them. Even if people hated the homosexual lifestyle, they didn't want to be branded as bigots, so they would throw their support behind the Fleur De Lis bar.
Britney tossed back the whiskey shot and casually looked around, finally looking at the girl that hunkered down on the stool two stools to her right.
"Hey," she said to the girl, and then continued her surveillance of the bar.
"Hi," Megan whispered. "Um, are you, you wouldn't be Denise, um KittyKat, huh?"
"Sorry, what?" Britney asked.
"Um, I'm uh, I'm supposed to be meeting KittyKat, um, said her name's Denise; she said to wear something red and this was all I could find an..." Megan stammered, tugging on the visor of her cap.
"Sorry, Babe," Britney smiled easily. "Why? I look like her?"
"Um, no, um, but she said she'd wear something red and I'd wear something red and we'd..." Megan stammered, about to cry.
Britney looked down at her red leather shorts and smiled at Megan. Megan, despite her fear, smiled back.
"Nope, I'm not Denise; whoever that is. "I'm Britney," Britney said and held out a hand.
"I'm Megan," Megan said, then almost groaned.
The name on her doctored ID card was Collette, not Megan. And Denise knew her as Collette, not Megan.
"Oh well, too late now," she thought to herself.
"What you drinking?" Britney asked, gesturing to Marge.
"Rum and coke," Megan whispered.
"Ready for another one, Sweetie?" Marge asked.
"Yes ma'am," Megan nodded.
"Hit me," Britney said and Marge nodded.
Megan quickly finished her first drink and smiled as Marge put the second drink down for her.
Britney raised her shot glass in a silent toast, smiling at Megan.
A song played in the background but the small dance floor only had two couples on it; most of the clientele were crowded around the three billiard tables and five video game consoles.
"Want to dance?" Britney asked, nodding with her head toward the dance floor.
Given a choice, Britney would have rather steered Megan toward the video games, letting a little friendly competition lower Megan's inhibitions and fears, but the crowd that was on that side of the bar was a rough group; loud, brash.
"Um, okay, um sure," Megan said and slid herself off of the stool.
Britney looked around at her bar in satisfaction.
She'd bought two scratch-off lottery tickets at a gas station just outside of Mumphrey, Louisiana. Chin Li had rolled her eyes at Britney when Britney had asked if she wanted any.
"Gambling is for fools," Chin Li had declared. "You'll never win; the odds are stacked against you."
"Uh huh," Britney had laughed. "But for what? Ten bucks? I just bought two dreams."
"Two dreams?" Chin Li had asked, wrinkling her face in confusion.
"Uh huh. 'Ooh, I wonder what I'll do with all that money' and then when you don't win on the first one, you move on to the next one and start the dreaming all over again," Britney had laughed. "See, I got a 'King Float' Mardi gras scratch-off and when that one turns out to be a dud, I've got this 'Louisiana Gumbo' scratch off."
"And I still have my ten dollars," Chin Li had said smugly.
"Speaking of which, bitch, cough it up; gas ain't free," Britney had smiled and dug a quarter out of her purse.
Britney scratched the film off of the play area and blinked.
To win, the player needed to get three King Floats in a row. Either up and down, or across, or diagonally. There were nine squares on the play area. Britney could see two floats under the removed film and unless it was a trick, there was a third one in view.
(The printer had printed up a test ticket, to make sure the art work was legible and that each thumbnail sketch was distinctive, clearly discernable, one from another. He was supposed to shred the test ticket after the ticket had passed his visual inspection, but accidentally shredded the second test ticket, letting the first ticket pass through the overlay process.)
"Holy fucking shit," Britney gasped, stunned as she looked at nine King Floats on her ticket.
"What?" Chin Li had asked, looking at her friend and dorm roommate.
"Chin Li, I got all nine floats; you get three in a row, it's a million dollars," Britney had whispered urgently.
"You're making that up," Chin Li had said dismissively.
The Louisiana Lottery office tried to get out of paying; it was obviously a forgery, or a mistake. Thankfully, Sophia Coutre, a lawyer that lived next door to the Wertnullers in DeGarde, Louisiana, took the case. According to the rules printed on the back of the lottery ticket, Britney was due eight million; she had three matches across, three down, and two diagonal. The printer and the Louisiana Lottery office settled and Britney was awarded five million dollars.
The Harley-Davidson was one of the gifts Britney gave herself. The bar was another gift. The small house she and Chin Li shared, along with four other small homes she rented to college students, preferably gay students was yet another gift.)
"Millionaire or not," Allison Wertnuller, Britney's mother had sternly said, "You're finishing college, you hear?"
Now, taking the sweating hand of Megan and pulling the small girl onto the floor, Britney was pleased with her investment.
Marge smiled as Britney became slightly aggressive; pulling a still quite frightened Megan into an intimate pose. Marge let the song finish, then hit the disc carousel.
"Marge, I fucking hate you!" Britney screamed as 'Vertigo' by U2 started.
Marge laughed and turned the volume up.
"Damn it, Marge, you know what that song does to me!" Britney complained.
"Dance, bitch, dance," Marge demanded.
Megan felt someone grab the collar of her silk blouse and pull her backward off the small dance area.
"Watch this," a friendly voice laughed.
Britney launched herself into the dance routine she and the DeGarde High School cheerleaders used to perform to the song.
"Oh my God," Megan gasped as Britney flipped backward, seemingly effortlessly.
"See why I pulled you out of there, Honey?" the woman laughed as more and more of the customers crowded around the dance floor.
The song ended and the crowd applauded as Britney pulled herself out of her leg split.
"Bitch, I'll get you for that," Britney yelled at Marge.
"Ooh, I'm so scared," Marge laughed and hit the carousel again.
