Tainted Rose (10 page)

“Go on,” Murdoch said, eyeing her.

It seemed all three of them were getting a kick out of this.

“Tell me how good it was,” Serge said.

She sighed. There was no use protesting. She couldn’t defy them.

“I liked it,” she said, as sweetly as she could.

“Did you?”

“I loved it,” she said, holding Serge’s gaze.

Why was he asking her about the rape? Why did they want her to say she liked it? It wasn’t true. She’d been forced. What difference did it make if she said she’d liked it. It was rape. She’d hated it. That was the beginning and the end of it. The fact that he’d done it before, the fact that other members of the club had done it before, the fact that he was getting her to say it was good, none of that made any difference. None of that made it okay. They couldn’t move on from this and be friends now. They would never be friends. Things would never be normal between them.

She looked at him and all she could feel was hate. She loathed Serge. Every hair on his head, every molecule in his body, she loathed it all. If she had a gun she would have pointed it at him and pulled the trigger.

“Call me daddy,” Serge said.

Rose looked down at the bar. Her coffee was cold. She lifted her mug and drank it anyway. It was better than speaking.

Serge cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, “I’m talking to you, bitch. You want to go for a ride with me or not?”

She looked up at him and realized that this hell that was her life was still just beginning. However bad things had been so far, however terrible it had made her feel, it was still just warming up. It could get a million times worse. If Serge took a liking to her, if he started to pay her more attention than he did to his other dancers, if he wanted to treat her
special
, there was no limit to how bad her life could become.

“Yes, daddy,” she said weakly.

“Speak up, bitch. I can’t hear a goddamn word you say.”

“Yes, daddy. I’d love to go for a ride on your big, loud motorcycle.”

Serge nodded. He was satisfied.

*

T
HERE WAS NO ONE IN
the world Rose would have liked to be on a bike with less than Serge Gauthier. He was a brute and a rapist and a murderer. He had a great bike but she hated him. How could she enjoy the ride?

But despite all that, riding out along the highway in the early spring sunshine, holding on to him on the back of his bike, she couldn’t help enjoy the feeling of the icy, fresh air blowing through her hair.

Rose had always loved being on the back of a bike. Ever since she was a little girl she’d loved it. Her father was the first man to ever take her out on the road. Ever since, getting on the back of a bike behind a man in leather reminded her of him. He’d been the one who taught her to ride too and she loved that even more. The feeling of riding out across the country, the horizon in front of her, the asphalt of the road beneath her, it filled her with joy. It made her feel alive. It made her feel free and powerful and full of light and life.

She hated that her arms were around Serge’s waist. She hated him with a passion. But apart from that, she almost could have screamed out in joy at being there. It was so long since she’d been on a bike. It had been two years since the DRMC had captured her and the only vehicles she’d been in since that day were the trucks and shitty cars that they used to transport her around or let her drive between the house and the bar.

She leaned back and looked up at the sky. It was the bluest it had been in months. Winter was finally coming to an end. She could feel it. It was the first morning since last fall that it was actually warm enough to ride like that without a full leather bodysuit.

As the bike rolled into the dirty little town of Val-d’Or, Rose leaned back and let her hair fly in the wind. She screamed out. The air was exhilarating. She knew that Serge would think she was enjoying being with him but she didn’t care. It felt so good to be out on the road.

*

T
HE BIKE PULLED UP OUTSIDE
the drug mart and Rose got off. Serge looked at her and for the first time she thought she saw the true man that he might have been if he wasn’t so messed up. If drugs hadn’t taken a hold of him he might have actually been a good man. He smiled at her and there was none of the psycho craziness in his eyes that she’d seen earlier.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s get you some new things.”

Rose was surprised. She hadn’t expected to be getting anything and now here she was at the drug mart with Serge. He was trying to impress her. She knew he was. He was going to get her a few things in an attempt to make up for what he’d done to her the night before. She didn’t understand how he could even think that buying someone a few things could ever make up for what he’d done but she had to admit, she did need the things.

The drug mart in Val-d’Or wasn’t the kind of place that most girls would ever get overly excited about. It wasn’t the kind of place they would think of for a shopping spree. It was nothing like the malls in Montreal that Rose had been used to before she’d been taken. It was basically a drugstore with a few extra aisles of clothing, underwear, and other things that women might need.

She followed Serge in.

“Just grab a cart,” he said to her. “Get whatever you need.”

“Really?” she said.

He nodded. She felt a little sick to her stomach. He was treating her like she was
his
girl and she wasn’t his girl. She hated him. He would never be able to win her over like this and she hated that he was even trying. But what she hated most was that she was playing along. She smiled at him before taking the cart and rolled it down the aisle. He’d driven her here on the back of
his
motorcycle and now
he
was buying her a cartload of supplies. She should have told him to shove it all up his ass. Instead, she was playing nice. She’d called him daddy. She’d cried out in joy on the back of his bike. Now she was happily pushing a cart around a store.

She was dismayed at how cheaply she was allowing herself to be bought.

The first thing she did was go to the underwear aisle. She filled the cart with bras, panties and every kind of lingerie she could find in her size. She wasn’t being picky at all. She grabbed literally everything that she thought might fit her. The underwear wasn’t high quality, it was cheap and made poorly, but it was better than wearing the same worn out bra and panties, night after night. She was a stripper and the one thing a stripper needed was underwear.

After she’d picked out about six pairs of bras and a few dozen thongs in every color they had she went to the cosmetics aisle and got moisturizer, lotion, mascara, concealer, lipstick, deodorant, perfume. By the time she was done she must have filled the cart with literally hundreds of dollars worth of cosmetics and hygiene products. None of it was fancy. Val-d’Or wasn’t the kind of place where you would buy expensive, imported things. It was all basic stuff, no name brands, but she didn’t care. She needed it badly and she wasn’t going to pass up her one chance to get it. She didn’t know how long it would be before Serge decided to take her here again.

She realized it wasn’t normal how desperate she was to get these things. It was as if she saw the soap and lotion and deodorant as a symbol of her own womanhood, her own humanity. She was constantly afraid of losing herself out there, she was afraid that she would forget who she really was, that her heart would harden and she would become cold and loveless. It was as if she thought that getting these few woman’s things might protect her from that process. She knew it was impossible, she knew it was crazy, but it was as if she thought that getting these few nice things would make up for the fact that she was being raped and abused on a regular basis by Murdoch, Serge and the rest of the Dark Rebel Motorcycle Club.

She brought the cart to the checkout and she was ashamed at herself when Serge came over to pay. He was her sugar daddy. The lady at the checkout would have thought she was his girlfriend. She caught herself smiling at him. She didn’t like him. She just wanted to make sure she got those things, that he didn’t change his mind.

“Thank you,” she said on the way out of the store.

“I told you to call me daddy,” he said.

She looked at the ground. “Thank you, daddy.”

IX

T
HEY DIDN’T GO BACK TO
the Cat after the drug mart. Serge had some business to do at the DRMC clubhouse and he brought Rose with him. It was the first time she’d been back there in two years. She still remembered the place from the night she’d been captured. She’d been kept there for a while before being brought out to the Cat. It gave her a strange feeling to be back.

The clubhouse was a dingy biker bar on the filthy main street of Val-d’Or. The whole town knew that the DRMC operated out of it. They also knew that the club had the police and the local politicians on its payroll and that they pretty much ran the town.

There were rarely any outsiders in Val-d’Or but if someone from out of town did arrive, they would immediately know not to enter the clubhouse. It looked like a bar but it was clear that it wasn’t the kind of place that was open to the public. Day or night, seven days a week, two armed members stood at the door looking like bouncers outside a nightclub. The skull logo of the club was posted in a blacked out window facing the street. A small sign on the door said 1 percent, indicating to anyone who would understand it that the club was engaged in criminal activity and was proud of the fact.

Rose had been in clubhouses like that a lot in her life, it wasn’t that different from the Sioux Rangers clubhouse she’d grown up in, but somehow it had a different atmosphere. Something about the DRMC clubhouse made her uneasy. Maybe it was the fact that she’d been taken there so soon after her capture. That was bound to leave some sort of emotional scar. But she thought the place also had a sinister feel all its own, something that came from the cruel and violent men that ran the club and the horrific activities they were engaged in.

*

S
ERGE PULLED UP IN FRONT
and Rose got off the bike. It was nice to be in the town, to be away from the Cat where she spent every waking minute with Murdoch, but it still made her sick that Serge was treating her like his girl, driving her around on the back of his bike, buying her things. If this was all a sign of what was to come in the future, if Serge was planning on making her his old lady, then the hell of her experience with the DRMC really was just beginning.

She followed Serge into the clubhouse past the two guards at the door and they both nodded in respect at Serge.

Inside, two club members were playing pool. Rock music came from an old jukebox. Behind the pool table was a bar with a fat bartender. Rose remembered him from when she’d last been there. She’d never be able to forget him. She didn’t know his name but they called him Fat Boy. He’d been the first member of the DRMC to rape her.

She would never forget that night no matter how hard she tried. It was soon after her capture. She was being kept in the motel. Fat Boy had been assigned to watch her room. She’d heard the chapter president give him the order. There was no way he was supposed to sleep with her but as soon as the others all left she heard him at the door. He crept into the room. She was tied to the bed, completely vulnerable.

The floor of the room creaked under the enormous weight of his fat body. He must have weighed over three-hundred pounds. Rose thought he was going to crush her when he put his weight on her. It had been an unthinkable experience. Everything was still so fresh in her mind. She wasn’t used to any of it yet. Just a few days earlier she’d been free, with a normal life. She’d never in her wildest dreams imagined that she was going to be captured and forced into slavery. Now she had this three-hundred pound monster pressing down on her.

Fat Boy had carefully unzipped her bodysuit and pulled it down around her ankles. It was tough to get someone out of a leather suit like that, especially when she was struggling, but he’d managed. She could still remember how vulnerable she’d felt. She’d been terrified.

He got onto the bed between her legs and she thought he was going to break it. The whole bed seemed to tilt down toward the ground at his end. He put his face between her legs and began licking her vagina, eating her pussy like a horrible dog slobbering over a plate of food. The sound of slobbering that he made sickened her. The disgust of the experience, mixed with her terror at being taken captive like that, was almost too much to bear. He was lapping her up, drinking any juice that escaped from her, getting his tongue right inside her. She’d wanted to scream but she was too frightened.

After he’d made her nice and wet and slippery he got up and lay on top of her. That was the worst part. He was so heavy she couldn’t breath. He guided his cock to the mouth of her pussy and no matter how much she struggled and squirmed under the enormous weight of his body, it did no good. He slid inside her and began rhythmically fucking her. To make it worse, he’d licked her face while he did it. She thought he was going to come inside her. She wanted him to hurry because the licking was so disgusting with his horrible, slimy tongue all over her face. But he didn’t come in her pussy. He pulled out at the last minute and then kneeled up over her and shot his entire load in her face. She could still remember what it felt like. She could taste the metallic stickiness of his semen, she could still smell it. Looking at him now brought back the memory of it and it still sickened her.

“Fat Boy,” Serge said to him, “I’ll have a beer and Rose will have something too. What do you want, Rose?”

They were both looking at her. It was difficult for Rose to picture two more vile faces.

“I’ll have a beer too,” she said. “She didn’t want a beer, least of all from Fat Boy, but she didn’t want to create a scene either. She took a seat at the bar next to Serge and watched Fat Boy clean some glasses. The two guys playing pool were pretty senior members of the club. Rose didn’t know them well but she could tell from their patches that they weren’t prospects. She’d also seen them a few times out at the Cat. They came out that way to party sometimes. She’d had both of their cocks in her mouth at one point or another. She’d probably sucked off the entire club at this point.