Breadown

Lisa was on the run. Not from the law, nothing like that. No, she was on the run from a badly broken marriage, several awful relationships, a dysfunctional family and a dead-end job. And that was just for starters.

So one morning she had emptied her savings account, put all her most valued possessions (and there were not many of these) into the back of her ancient Crown Vic station wagon and pointed it at the West Coast.

Over the next week or so she had made her way from a rainy New York City, through the heart of the Mid West, across the flat plains, always following the setting sun. Along the way she had stayed in whatever roadside motel she found and eaten in more diners than she cared to think of. Lisa was a good looking girl, she knew that, and felt less than comfortable with some of the looks she got, eating alone amongst the truckers and rednecks, many of whom did not even try to conceal their gazes.

And now she found herself driving along a road through the desert, with the sun beating down from a clear blue sky, staring at a flashing engine warning light on her dash. "Don't worry," she told herself. "These things usually just sort themselves out." Only this one didn't. Gradually she could feel the old boat beginning to lose power. She pressed the accelerator harder but still it kept losing speed, added to which it was not making an ominous rattling noise from somewhere under the bonnet.

Finally she had to accept the inevitable and steered the ancient land yacht to a stop on the soft shoulder. She switched off the already dying engine and heard it continue its death rattle for several seconds before total silence came crashing in on her.

She sighed and opened the door to a wave of desert heat. It was like opening the door to the stove as the hot air blew over her. She climbed out and looked up at the azure sky, trying to calculate how much daylight remained. She took her cell phone from her purse and looked at it. Not even a single bar of reception. The words "No Service" were all that greeted her.

"Shit!" she said out loud. She had some bottles of water on the back seat; the attendant at the last gas station had insisted she buy them after she told him which direction she was headed in. At the time she had thought it was just another sales trick, but now she silently thanked him. She took one out and had a deep slug on it. The water was still cool from the air conditioned interior of the car, but she knew that would not last long.

The sun was over the mid point and there was a small amount of shade on the near side of the car so she sat down in it and stared at the horizon. She must have dozed off because when she next opened her eyes the shadow was a good couple of feet longer, and there was a noise.

At first she thought it might be thunder rolling over the distant mountains, but it was keeping on, and seemed to be getting closer. She hauled herself to her feet and squinted up the road in both directions. The sound was definitely coming from the West and as she continued to watch she saw a dark shape begin to grow. The sound got louder as it got closer, and finally she was able to discern that it was not one object, but a swarm.

Her first thought was to hide, not knowing what it was, but she quickly realised that was stupid. Firstly the car was an obvious give away, and secondly this might be the only traffic on the road. She had not seen another car today. So she stood beside the car and waved a hand in the air, trying to put a friendly smile on her face.

Eventually the bikes drew level with her. There were around twenty, all Harleys and all growling a rumbling through open exhausts. The riders were uniformly dressed in black leathers with patches sewn on; skulls, deaths heads, the occasional iron cross. The riders themselves were a motley bunch; some old, some young, some bearded and some clean shaven. But they had one thing in common; they were all staring at her.

The lead rider switched off his engine, lazily pushed down the side stand and nimbly threw his leg over the machine. This seemed to be a signal as all the others switched off their engines. Again the silence of the desert came down on Lisa.

He was not wearing a helmet-none of them were for that matter-and she could see that he was about forty, but in good shape with no sign of a grey hair. He was ok looking, almost handsome, and tall. He yanked the waistband of his jeans up an inch and cocked his head at her before favouring her with a smile.

"Well, how do you do miss," he said in a cowboy drawl. "May I assume you are having some car trouble?"

Lisa felt a little relieved. He seemed to be ok and the smile disarmed her a bit.

"Yes," she said. "But I have no idea what is wrong."

He laughed lightly. "Doesn't really matter," he said. "Out here, all trouble is big trouble." Another of the bikers, a huge bearded man wearing a leather vest over a bare barrel-chest, had dismounted and strode up behind him. "Take a look will you Jed," the leader said to him. Jed nodded and went to the car, opening the hood and poking around the engine.

"I'm Lisa," Lisa said. "I'm really glad you came along. I was beginning to think I was going to be stuck out here all night."

He looked around them, then held out a hand. "Ben," he said. Lisa shook his hand. "And you might well have been out here for longer than that. Don't really know what made you take this road. Not many people come this way any longer since the new interstate was run through. To be honest you might have been out here for days if we hadn't come along."

Lisa shuddered at the thought. "I had no idea," she said. "I think my map might be a bit out of date."

Jed stuck his head up from under the hood. "This think ain't going nowhere," he said. "Gonna need some parts."

Ben looked at Lisa and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you can wait here with it if you want," he said. "But I don't think I would advise it. Or we can take you to our place and you can call for someone to come and pick it up." He looked up at the sky. "Gonna get dark pretty fast though so might not happen till tomorrow."

Lisa was torn. She didn't know anything about these guys, and they were after all a biker gang. But on the other hand she did not fancy the idea of spending the night out here on her own. After a few moments considering she nodded. "Fine, I'll take you up on the offer."

"Ever ridden before?" Ben asked her.

"No, never," Lisa said.

"Nothing to it," he said. "Just hold on to my waist and lean with me. You'll soon get the hang of it."

Ben climbed aboard his bike and Lisa clumsily mounted the pillion seat behind him, hanging on to him far tighter than she needed to. The engine roared to life and without delay they took off.

The rest of the gang followed and they wound their way for a couple of miles along the highway before turning off onto a gravel road, the bikes kicking up a vast plume of dust in their wake.

Eventually they arrived at what was almost a small town in the middle of the bleak desert. It consisted of a huge circle of trailers with a makeshift gate of corrugated steel. There were two towers made of scaffold poles, one on either side of the gate, and Lisa could see a man on each. One seemed to be holding a rifle. He waved as he saw them approaching and the gate was hinged open for them, and closed just as quickly when the last man had entered.

The bikes roared to a stop in the centre of the camp and the men turned them off and dismounted. Bed kicked the stand down and got off, helping Lisa off behind him. He put his hands on his hips and looked around. Lisa took in the view. She could see about two dozen people, excluding the bikers she had arrived with, and they were all women. Some were washing clothes in large metal baths, a couple were cooking on a home made bbq, and others were just sitting about talking. One by one they all stopped what they were doing and stared at Lisa.

"You must be tired," Ben said to her. "Mack," he waved to one of his crew. "Take Lisa to my trailer." He looked at her. "Get your head down for a bit. I'll come get you when the food is ready." Mack, a short, skinny guy with a bald head and black goatee beard came over and gestured for her to follow him, leading her to a large, grey trailer with a pirate flag flying on a short pole outside it. He opened the door and said, "just excuse the mess. Make yourself at home."

It was hot inside, though a table fan was blowing air around which made it almost bearable. Lisa looked around, thinking that it could be worse. There were several empty beer bottles lying around and there was a musty smell to the place, but it was mostly clean. There was a kitchen area, two small sofas, and a bedroom behind an open door with a large, unmade bed in it. She sat on the sofa and looked out through the grimy window. There was a flurry of activity as Ben yelled and pointed at some of the guys. They then trotted across the dusty ground and climbed into an old, faded red GMC pickup and took off through the gates into the desert. Then the people all wandered off in different directions and within minutes it was all quiet again.

Lisa sat back and sighed, wondering how she had landed herself in this situation. "Impetuous," her mother would have called it, she could almost hear her voice now. What the hell, she was probably right. She closed her eyes.

Lisa must have slept because she was suddenly jerked awake by the door banging open and Ben walking in. It was getting dark outside and lights were coming on around the camp. He slammed the door behind him and gave her a smile. "Did you get some rest?" He asked her.

She nodded. "Must have," she said.

"Good," he said. He walked over to where she was sitting on the low sofa and looked down at her for a second before offering his hand to help her up. She took it and he pulled her up with more force than she had expected. He then slid the other hand behind her and pulled her to him. She tried to pull away but he was too strong for her and he held her tightly against him. She could smell his sweat and feel his breath as he looked down into her face.

"Kiss me," he told her.

"What?"

"You heard me," he said. She was about to tell him where to go when he put his free hand behind her head and pulled her to him. His mouth was on hers and there was nothing she could do to stop him. His lips were all over hers and his probing tongue was trying to fight its way into her mouth. He kept this up for some time before breaking off.

"Tell me," he said. "How do you see this working out?"

"What?" She said. "What do you mean?"

She heard the noise of an engine outside and Ben turned his head, smiling lightly. "Come over here," he said, tugging her toward one of the windows. She looked outside and saw the pickup that had driven off earlier coming in through the open gate. Behind it, on a long tow rope was her car with one of the men at the wheel. They pulled it through the centre of the camp over to one of the far corners. And then she was where they were stopping.

There was a collection of at least twenty old cars there, all in various states of decomposition, rotting away in the dry air. Most of the tyres had collapsed and some were missing body parts, the glass smashed and paint peeling off. As she watched another couple of men turned up and helped manoeuvre her car into the mass of wrecks, shuffling it into position. One of them went round it with a large knife and drove the blade through each tyre in turn, the air bursting out with a gasp.

She stared in horror. What were they doing? She looked at Ben, her eyes wide. He just smiled at her. "Now, why don't you get those clothes off," he said, "and we can get a look at what we have found ourselves."

She recoiled, pulling away from his arms as he relaxed them.

"Now, don't be shy," he said, leering at her. "Do you want me to help?"

She shook her head, her lips quivering. She promised herself she would not cry, but it was hard. She began to unbutton her blouse, her fingers shaking. Ben said nothing, just watched her in silence, a calm smile fixed on his face. Once she had all the buttons undone she slid the blouse off and threw it onto the floor. She was wearing a white push up bra and her breasts bulged out of the top of it. "Nice," he said.

She paused, then undid and slid off her jeans, standing in front of him in her bra and panties. He folded his arms across his broad chest. "Doing well," he said, "Don't stop there."

She reached behind her and unclasped the bra, letting it drop off but crossing her arms over her now naked breasts. Ben pointed at her panties and made a downward gesture. She took a deep breath and pulled them down, standing up in front of him. No man had seen her naked since the last time with her ex-husband and she felt completely helpless. Ben covered the three steps to her and took her by the upper arms, kissing her again. "Now, go over to the bed and lie down," he told her.

She did and he watched her go before removing his own clothes. He was muscular and fit, with a broad chest and wide shoulders, his arms knots of muscle. His cock was already half erect and growing steadily. He walked to where she lay and knelt on the bed with one knee on either side of her, looking down at her with hunger in his eyes. He bend down until his face was inches from hers. "Now this time, kiss me back," he ordered her.

Reluctantly she did, not knowing what would happen if she refused. He kissed her long and luxuriously. She told herself that at least he was a good kisser. After a while of this he began to work his way down until he was kissing her breasts, ending up taking the nipples into his mouth and sucking on them greedily. Despite the situation, against every rational thought, Lisa found herself becoming aroused. She had not had sex for at least three months and somewhere inside her there was something that wanted this to happen. She told herself that she had to fight it, that she could not allow this man to take her like this.

He was working his way further south, and before long she felt his tongue on her cunt, his mouth sucking at her. She gasped, in turns disgusted and aroused. What he was doing was wrong, but it felt so good. His tongue was like a snake, writhing and wriggling away at her. She could feel herself becoming damp, then downright wet. He lifted his head and looked at her. "Now we're talking," he said, a schoolboy grin on his face. Lisa couldn't speak.

He carried on like this for what seemed like ages, before pulling himself back up and squatting over her. She stole a glance down there and saw his cock had grown to a huge size and he was positioning it ready to enter her. She closed her eyes and waited.

It was not for long though and within seconds she felt the head push its way into her, followed in stages by the length of shaft behind it. He slid it in and out of her with a casual ease and she heard him sigh as he did. She could feel it stretching her inside, pushing deeper and deeper as he thrust it. He bent his head and kissed her on the neck. He pushed himself ever deeper into her until there was nothing more to give, when said to her in an almost whisper, "now it's time to fuck."

With this he began to ride her with ever increasing vigour. The thrusts were harder and deeper until he was virtually pounding at her cunt. She cried out, both in pain and pleasure, never having felt anything like this before. He kept up this pace until, with a long groan, he let go inside her. Lisa felt him come in a series of hot pulses of jism that sprayed inside her.

Once he was done he rolled over onto his back beside her. "Wow," he said. "Why do I get the feeling we both needed that?"

They lay there, Lisa in silence and Ben breathing heavily, until he suddenly got up and started to pull his clothes back on. "Time to eat," he said. "Come on, before it gets cold." And he opened the door and went out into the night, leaving the door open behind him.

Lisa told herself that she was not going to eat, but she had had nothing since breakfast that morning and her stomach told her something else, so she pulled her clothes back on and went out of the trailer.

The entire clan were seated around a campfire in the middle of the circle. The bbq was still burning and two women were cooking steaks and burgers. Lisa made her way over and one of the women met her holding a plate laden with meat and bread. "Come and sit," she said, leading Lisa to a cluster of chairs occupied by a group of women. She sat as directed and began to pick at the food, before realising just how hungry she was and tucking into it with relish.

The woman who had spoken to her watched her. "I'm Cathy," she said, holding out a hand. Lisa stared at it for a moment before taking it in hers and giving her own name.

"I know what you are thinking," Cathy said. "How the hell did I end up here."

Lisa shrugged, "more or less," she said.

"This is Mary, by the way," Cathy said. Mary gave her a wan smile.

"How long have you been here?" Lisa asked them.

"Me, about a year," Cathy told her. "Mary a bit less, maybe nine months."

"How did you get here?"

Cathy sighed, much the same as you I suppose. She pointed to the pile of wrecked cars. "That's my Chevy, the red one. Got a flat on the highway and found that I didn't have a spare. They came across me while I was waiting there for a good Samaritan."

But isn't anyone looking for you?" Lisa asked her.

"Maybe," Cathy said, "but if you take a look at all the cars over there you will see one thing in common." Lisa looked over but in the gloom it was hard to see much. "Out of town plates," Mary said. "If anyone is looking for me, you, any of us, they are most likely not looking here."

"How many of 'us' are there?" Lisa said.

"There are nine now with you," Cathy told her.

Being included in this somehow brought it home to Lisa. She was here and in all possibility would be for some time to come. On the ride in they had driven through at least thirty miles of empty desert. If by some miracle she was able to get out of this place then she could see no way that she would make it back to civilisation. If she even knew which direction to head in, which she most certainly did not. She was a city girl, not a survivalist.

"So how does it work?" Lisa asked her.

Mary replied for her. "We do the cooking and cleaning," she said. "Generally look after the place." She took a bite of her food and a swig from her bottle of beer. "And we fuck," she added.

"Yeah," Cathy said, "we do a lot of that."

"And more," Mary said.

Lisa looked at the two women closer. Both were beautiful, shapely and pretty. She could see that they met a type; slim-waisted, busty and tall. "So do you have, what, husbands?"

"You mean here, the guys?" Mary said. "No, it doesn't work like that. It's more of a kind of free-for-all situation. If one of the guys wants one of us, well, they just help themselves."

"But doesn't anyone put up a fight?"

Cathy shrugged. "Not much point, unless you want to go hungry and thirsty. The guys never hit us or anything like that. They don't really need to. And, you may have noticed, we aren't going anywhere."

Lisa carried on eating in silence, trying to process it all. She was almost finished when she felt a presence at her elbow. She looked up to see a man standing next to her. He was tall and wide, dressed like the others in black leather and denim. His hands were on his waist and he was looking down on Lisa with an appraising eye. "If you are done eating," he said, "would you like to accompany me." He held out a hand to help her up but she refused it and stood defiantly.

He led her to another of the trailers and held open the door for her. It was less of a mess inside and she was surprised to see one wall lined with bookshelves laden with a mixture of paper- and hard-backs. "I'm Sam," he told her as he removed his leather vest. "Bedroom's this way," he added, gesturing to an open door.