Resisting The Biker

By: Cassie Alexandra & K. L. Middleton


When we walked into the strip club, I immediately felt like all eyes were on us. It was exactly how I’d pictured it to be, too – dark, musty, and in need of new carpeting, and not just the flooring. Most of the waitresses looked like they could collect social security, although they were dressed like high school girls. The ones from their generation.

Krystal giggled. “These ladies know that the eighties have come and gone? Kind of like their looks.”

I smirked. “God, you’re a bitch.”

“Well, I do like it doggy-style,” she joked. “I cannot lie.”

I snorted.

The stage was lit up and the place was packed, although most of the customers looked distracted and uncomfortable, which surprised me. In fact, there was so much tension in the air that I felt like we’d walked into something that was about to turn hostile. Then I noticed that there were two groups of men eyeing each other from opposite sides of the room. As I looked closer, I also noticed they had different patches on their vests, or cuts, as Krystal liked to call them. Some said Gold Vipers on the back, while the others said Devil’s Rangers.

“Where’s Tank?” Krystal asked the bouncer, standing just inside of the door. He was as tall as he was wide, bald, and had a long, bushy red beard.

His eyes dropped to her breasts and he licked his lips. “He’s in the back room. I’ll let him know you’re here. You must be Krystal?”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“Who’s your friend?” he asked, now leering at me. I was glad that I’d worn jeans and a loose sweater, although from the way he was looking at my chest, I could have just as well have been naked.

I forced a smile. “I’m Adriana.”

“Adriana, huh? You’d best be watching Adriana’s back,” he said with a smirk, his eyes shifting towards the crowd of men also now gawking at us. “Everyone’s gonna know you’re Tank’s, Krystal, but she’s without protection.”

My eyebrow arched. “Protection?”

“A man. If I were you, I wouldn’t go anywhere in this place without Krystal, here. You won’t like it. Or,” he laughed darkly. “Maybe you will.”

“I’ll stick with Krystal,” I mumbled, already feeling dirty.

He pulled out a cell phone and began texting. “Since the Devil’s Rangers are here, I advise that you both go and sit down by the bar. Don’t talk to anyone, except Misty, the bartender. I’d escort you myself, but there’s a meeting in back and I’m not supposed to leave the front door.”

“Okay,” she answered.

I followed Krystal towards the bar right as Bob Seger began singing about Main Street, which confirmed that we were definitely in a biker bar. Growing up, I’d always associated Fat Bob with Harleys, beer, and Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear. Apparently, I’d be adding strippers with dentures to that list.

“Stay close,” said Krystal, looking back at me over her shoulder. “Don’t make eye-contact with anyone.”


The music picked up and everyone’s eyes shifted away from us to a woman with long red hair and enormous boobs, who’d just stepped onto the stage. From the look on her face, I could tell she wasn’t a bubbly, happy stripper. When she tried to smile, it was more of a pucker. As if she’d just licked a lime.

Krystal chuckled. “She should have used the money she spent on her tits on some Botox. At least she’d look a little more relaxed.”

“Uh, seriously, I don’t think anyone will notice anything above her collarbone.”

“I need a nurse!” hollered one of the customers, standing up and waving cash. “You’re giving me a heart-attack, Betty.”

Krystal snorted. “Nurse Betty looks like she’s going to have one herself lugging those monsters around.”

Betty wore a nurse’s uniform and three-inch stilettos that made her legs look like they went all the way up to the clouds. From the way she moved around the stage, it was obvious that she’d been doing it for a long time, but had lost interest in it a couple decades ago.

“Men are such pigs,” said Krystal, as another guy leaped onto the stage and grabbed the stripper’s boobs with both hands. She began to holler and the man’s buddies pulled him down, roaring with laughter. I hoped, for her sake, that the bar paid her decent benefits.

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