Chapter 50 ~ Stag and Hen
“You’re fucken kidding me, right?” I looked at the men as they surrounded me in the booze bunker, holding up a large wedding dress, veil and a sash that said ‘groom to be’. I was going to kill them mother fuckers.
“Come on Dad, more than half these arseholes in here would never have the balls to do it.”
“The Kids right, we don’t have the… balls… for a dress,” Brutus jabbed.
I nodded to the new prospects, Flynn and Ferguson, as giant big grins adorned their faces. “You’re right boys,” I said mockingly, it takes a real man to wear a dress, which is why, I won’t be the only one…” The prospects wheeled in an entire rack full of ball gowns, all from the eighties naturally, we picked em up from the second hand store the day before yesterday. “Make sure you choose the best colour to really make your eyes sparkle.”
After a lot of shots and some solid convincing, we were dressed in our elegant frocks and heading for the strip joint. I looked around the bus at the collection of hairy bikers in gowns and burst into laughter. Jesus, Boomer was so fucken big; he couldn’t do his up at the back. Flicker found a damn tiara in one of the whore’s rooms and it sparkled like damonds in his mattily braided pitch black hair. Deon was in a lovely purple number with fuck off shoulder pads while Brutus wore and aqua lace dress, all of us still wearing our cuts overtop. Leighton looked gorgeous in his bright pink frilly one, though, his jeans underneath didn’t quite match.
Aja had her friend Janet look after Rex, so her, Nevaeh and Deon could have a much needed night off. Janet had been around the club for years, always as an associate never as anyone’s and never slept with any of the members. They formed a friendship after Rex senior saved Aja, used to work at the grocery store, that’s how they met but I actually thought more than once, over the years that Janet had a thing for Aja.
As we pulled up to the front, we were greeted by the most awful sight. My face twisted to anger. There stood Priya in white lingerie, garter belt, veil and a bra and kinckers just barely covering her bits, bits that belonged to me. Her face paled as I was thrown back by Deon and Brutus, into the side of the bus. I saw her mouth the words, ‘I love you’ and she was pulled inside by Ovella and Eva. The girls had invited some of the more respectable whores and old lady’s but compared to our horde, their group was small, that meant they were vulnerable.
“Pull your shit together,” Deon warned with his finger in my face and his elbow to my throat. “Madam Shaywell is taking care of them; I made sure she was to call me if anything happened and for fuck sake Trig, she’s allowed to get up to anything on her hens night, you crazy possessive bastard.”
“She’s practically naked in that joint,” I pointed to the male strip club next door.
“Yep, that’s because you’re wearing her dress, now come on.”
Madam Shaywell’s real name was Max Shay, though, like all true illusionists you could never tell. Her business was set up by Rex senior, years back. She needed somewhere safe, since the land was owned by us, there was no safer place.
Rex had intervened one night after he saw a woman been beaten to a bloody pulp in one of the city’s alleyways. He was shocked to discover he had just saved a man but took pity on her after she explained her story of being trans and was forced to be trapped her entire life in the wrong body.
The club she owned was raided many times by hateful weak men, so he set her up here for the girls of our club and little town, to go on their nights out and blow off some steam, same as us at our strip joint. Madam Shaywell answered to Aja and paid her the agreed amount for the rental of the land and protection by the club. The male strippers earned coin and the women were always watched, business thrived for her, in a safe and problem free environment.
My issue was not the place, it was the fact that Priya is sexy as fuck and those male strippers would be gunning for her, especially after seeing her delicious curves. I shouldn’t really worry, she now had my brand tattooed boldly on her body but really, can you blame me? She is mine and mine only.
After taking a leak and realising how hard it was to navigate a wedding dress, I needed a drink. Having burned off the alcohol in my veins when my possessive streak kicked in and the adrenalin pumped through my body, ready to tear apart any motherfucker that dared look upon my Mafia.
The club was packed full, dirty business men drooled at the stages as the girls danced on their podiums, poles and the main stage. The tables packed with married or taken men just watching the pussy work. We were seated at our usual tables in the far back corner by the DJ booth, curious eyes floated in our direction but quickly turned back once they noticed the horde of bikers wearing cuts and dresses were actually The Road Warriors. You could see the ripple of fear run through them upon their realisation of who we were.
Megan, the biggest slut I had unfortunitly fucked a couple of times when I needed relief, wandered over, those lustful eyes burned with desire and hope, stupid bitch, she’d met my woman and clearly refused to comprehend I was off limits.
“Trigger, I see you’re alone, lets slip to a private room now.” Her voice irritated me to no end.
“Nah, this here is my stag do, I’m getting married to the woman you’ve already met.”
She shook her head dramatically, “no, you’re here to see me,” she replied almost in disbelief.
“Fuck no he ain’t,” Leighton spat from beside me, “You look like you’ve had too many cars parked in your garage, it would be like throwing a sausage down a hallway.”
The room exploded into laughter with the men driving their fists, playfully, into Leighton’s arms. She grit her teeth and went to throw venom at him but my fist came down on the table gaining her attention, “don’t bother trying to mouth back to my son Megan, you’re already on thin ice for being caught with ecstasy pills, one more issue and you lose your job entirely.”
She snapped her mouth closed and narrowed her eyes on me like she was willing me to spontaneously burst into flames before turning and walking away.
“How could you fuck that thing?” Brutus asked.
“Easy pussy,” I replied nonchantly and shrugged.
The night wore on and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, everyone except me, Deon, Leighton and Brutus. We huddled together knocking back shots and talking about old times, stories and other shit, when Phil B or rather Ballsy, got hauled up on the main stage and was encouraged to dance. The song Naughty Girl by Beyonce blasted through the sound system and at first Phil B was a little thrown, but true to his big balls, he began to move.
At first it was awful and you could tell he was fighting with everything he had in him not to run off that stage but then you see him mouth the words, ‘fuck it’ and he slides his ball gown down to pool at his feet.
In just his jeans and boots, he body rolls and twerks like nobody’s business, the entire club was in a wild frenzy of hoot and hollars as he decided to give one of the strippers a personal lap dance as she lay down on the stage, even ‘wormed’ on top of her. Shit, I have to admit he had moves, way better than mine were the night I danced for Priya.
The crowd settled down after Ballsy’s performance was done and we all cheered loudly, the lights dimmed and everyone’s eyes focused on stage. Pony by Genuwine played, four green spotlights flicked on, illuminating the figures in six inch heels and one foot on a chair, in time with the music. The purple haired women began to pop and then circle their hips, their black fedora’s matching their black leather and lace corset lingerie as they added a thigh slap and finger clicks in between their hip circles and pops. The lights bounced off their black glittery heels, everything about them was mesmerising, considering we had not paid any interest all night, it was unusally fascinating how much all four of us were hypnotised.
Every man in the room now was practically salivating and pushing against one another to get to them on stage. When they straddled the chairs and leant all the way back, their hair swept across the floor, it had me definitely aroused… up until Leighton jumped up from his seat and climbed those men as if he was on a hunt, his alpha male mode had kicked in. He ripped the fedora and wig off the young woman as she was bent over wiggling her arse from side to side… but it wasn’t any girl, it was fucken Kitty… which only meant, “FUCK!”
The girls on stage suddenly stopped. My murderous growl so loud, it could be heard over the music and deviantly salivating men. We moved forward with menacing furious faces in our beautiful gowns, like a bunch of furious runway models, the throngs of hard drooling pigs parted like the red sea, out of our way as the girls gained composure and gave us wicked smiles. “Lovely outfit caveman, but I thought I was meant to wear the wedding dress?” Priya chuckled to herself.
“Get off that stage.” My bellow was dangerous.
The clicky clack of heels was the only sound that could be heard as they climbed off and removed their wigs and hat. They stood in front of us, shyly looking up at us through their heavily painted eyelashes. Leighton had Kitty over his shoulder as he hiked up his pink gown and walked Kitty right out of the club.
All three of us at once, pointed to the door and they moved, knowing just how much trouble they were in, with us falling into step behind them. Outside Aja was already behind the wheel of the bus laughing at the sight as we entered, the other women from Priya’s hens were seated as we entered and the rest of the club followed behind us.
Ovella, Nevaeh and Priya were escorted to the left side of the back seat, Brutus and Deon in the row in front as I boxed the three of them in on the back seat, glowering murderously at any man that dared turn and look at them. With my arms folded across my chest, I could hear them snickering like naughty school girls next to me, then clearing their throats to try and cover up their amusement.
Neither of us could look at them.
Upon arrival, the bus was emptied and the music was turned up inside the club house, the sounds filtered through to us as we sat there, steam streaming from our ears and nostrils.
Aja climbed out from behind the wheel and turned to us, “the way you neandurthals are acting, anyone would think they fucked on that stage in front of everyone.”
“This was your idea, wasn’t it mum?” Deon’s teeth clamped shut so hard; I thought his teeth might break.
“I may have shown them a thing or two my son,” she laughed before exiting, poking the already pissed off bear was not a good idea.
We sat there in silence for the longest time before Ovella finally spoke, “well, this has been fun and all, not saying a damn thing, but I have to pee, so if you could kindly get the fuck out of the way Trigger, it takes a long time to get out of this outfit.” Brutus’ hands that had been resting on his knees now tightened to balls, his fists clenching hard, turning his knuckles white.
“Let her through Trig,” his growl was low.
“In our room Nevaeh, now,” Deon spat as they followed the first two.
Priya and I remained there in silence. “Why are you so mad?” She finally spoke.
“You belong to me, Mafia, my eyes only…”
“You think any of that was for anyone else’s benefit?” She cut me off, “No. We were sitting there, watching those cockheads dance and wishing we were with you boys, when the idea popped into our heads. It was all for you, granted we were jealous, thinking you were getting a show from the girls and thought it should be us you were lusting after, not some tramp.”
“We were lusting after you four; we were sitting there not even paying attention until you lot got on stage. All I kept thinking was how much I wanted to come home to you,” I huffed.
Out the corner of my eye I could see her devilish smile. “Hey caveman?” she wiggled her brows and bit her bottom lip.
“What Mafia?” I grunted.
“Ever fucked on a bus?”