Biker Bitch Ch. 09

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Biker Bitch
Michele Nylons

Chapter Nine: Fuck the Trans Cooze!

Cassie sat behind a desk in a stark interview room at the Los Angeles County Jail. ATF do not have their own detention facilities; they use Federal penitentiaries and often borrow local law enforcement facilities to temporally incarcerate suspects and interrogate them.

She had been freed of her cuffs and her clutch purse and its contents lay on the melanite desk sealed in clear plastic evidence bags. The burly ATF agent sat across from her, studying her.

“We processed you when you arrived here. You know what?” his eyes drilled into hers.

“You came up flagged. Now why is that?”

Cassie had been arrested a few times before when she used to be Cameron Rivers and she knew this was a deviation from the usual police interview. She said nothing but her heart was pounding. She didn’t know what ‘flagged’ meant but she knew it had something to do with her being an FBI undercover operative. During training they basically told her the same thing that the MC did; you say nothing to any police officers or Federal agents. The FBI would sort out the mess but say nothing…to no one.

The agent smiled.

“The code of the OMC eh? Say nothing no matter what.”

“So let’s start over. I’m agent Paul Zabinsky of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms, ATF. You know who and what we are,” he grinned.

“And you’re Cassandra Rivers, aged twenty eight, currently residing at the address provided on your driver’s licence,” he tapped one of the sealed bags.

Cassie knew the FBI had manipulated State and Federal records to change her identity from male to female. It was part of her backstory that she had paid for the records to be changed while she was hiding out in Mexico.

“You are also in the records as a member of the Outlaw Motorcycle Club known as the Beasts of Burden,” he continued.

“Now that’s interesting. That’s very interesting because except for the Sisters of Satan, an all-girl MC out of Nevada, you are the only female full-patch biker I’ve ever seen.”

Agent Zabinsky tore open the evidence bag inside of which were Cassie’s cigarette case, which contained her favourite Marlboro Menthol Light cigarettes, and her silver lighter. He lifted a cigarette from the case and offered it to her.

Cassie pointed with her chin to the sign painted on the wall that said ‘No Smoking’ in English and ‘No Fumar’ in Spanish below it.

He shrugged his shoulders and took the cigarette, placed it between his full lips and lit it. He stared at her and once again offered the cigarette case. This time Cassie took one and bent forward to light it off the proffered silver lighter. She held Paul’s wrist steady as she did so. It was a ruse to keep him focussed on her elegant fingers with the ruby-red nail polish so that hopefully he wouldn’t notice that the cigarette case was about half as thick again as the cigarettes it contained.

The cigarette case held her micro-camera and the lighter her miniature audio recording device.

Paul felt her gentle grip on his wrist and looked from her elegant fingers to her pretty features. It was hard to believe this feminine creature was a biker.

“So why were two members of the Beasts of Burden MC, one of whom is the president, having dinner with two mid-level Medici Cartel greasers?” Paul got back to business.

Cassie didn’t answer, she drew on her cigarette.

Suddenly the door to the interview room opened and another agent carrying two cups of steaming coffee in styrofoam cups entered the room.

“Jesus Zabinsky this place is fetid! You gonna completely ignore the California State laws regarding smoking in government buildings until lung cancer forces you to!” the agent whined and put the coffee down on the table.

“Fuck you Stevens. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,” Paul Zabinsky growled.

“Speaking of asses; you behave with this doll. Her file’s flagged; she shouldn’t even be here,” Stevens replied.

“Fuck! Way to give up any chance I had of interrogating this cooze! Fuck off!” Paul Zabinsky was angry.

Stevens gave him the finger and closed the door behind him.

Cassie grinned at agent Zabinsky.

“Why do you assholes always talk like you’re in some nineteen sixties TV cop show,” she smirked and drew on her cigarette and picked up and sipped her coffee.

Her eye’s followed Zabinsky’s to the camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling. The red indicator light was off. It either wasn’t working or more likely Zabinsky had switched it off.

Zabinsky smirked back at Cassie and then his hand shot out and slapped the scalding coffee from her grip. Cassie bought her other hand up to protect herself and Zabinsky slapped that away and her cigarette followed her coffee.

Zabinsky may have been burly but he was lightening quick. He leapt out of his chair and grabbed Cassie by the throat, hauling her from the metal chair. She lost her highheels and her hair fell out of its elaborate do and across her face effectively blinding her. She was choking and couldn’t breathe when she felt her back slam into the wall.

“You smartass cooze! You think you’re special cause you’re some good looking broad who is snitching for the FBI? What if I was to tell your asshole biker buddies you’re a snitch? Bet they’d fuck you up the ass then bury you in the desert,” Zabinsky was panting with exertion.

He took his hand from her throat and held her pinned to the wall by her shoulders. Cassie could finally breathe. She flicked her hair out of her eyes and glared at him defiantly.

“They already did that,” she hissed.

Zabinsky grabbed the front of Cassie’s dress and ripped open the bodice.

“Jeez look what happened in the struggle when you attacked me,” he laughed.

Cassie remained silent, gasping, trying to get her breath back.

Zabinsky grabbed Cassie’s left breast and squeezed and twisted it but she refused to cry out.

“Fucking whore!” Zabinsky slapped her face.

Cassie figured that she could probably take Zabinsky if she wanted to. He was now being a stupid bully and his soft mid-section just invited a kidney punch and then a kick in the balls but she resisted the temptation. She remained silent as instructed and bore the pain.

“You only got little tits, lets see what else you got,” Zabinsky panted.

Before she could stop him, Paul Zabinsky shot his hand inside her split gown and grabbed her crotch. He squeezed hard and she gasped with the pain.

It took a few seconds for Zabinsky to realise what was wrong; why the cooze didn’t have a cunt inside those sheer hose. She was a fucking ladyboy!

“You fucking freak!” Zabinsky ripped his hand out from inside Cassie’s dress.

He spat in her face then let go of her. She doubled over in pain and he bought a knee up to her face and then punched her in the side of the head and she slid down the wall and collapsed in a ball on the filthy floor.

“So you’re not only an FBI snitch; you’re a fucking tranny. I don’t know how those guys in the MC can stand you but you probably blow them all every day to keep them amused,” Zabinsky smoothed his rumpled shirt.

“So once again! Why were two members of the Beasts of Burden MC, one of whom is the president, having dinner with two mid-level Medici Cartel greasers?” he toed at her with his foot.

Cassie shook her head and remained silent.

“Fuck this! I bet a few hours in lockup with some gangbangers will soften you up!” Zabinsky snickered.

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. He picked up her heels and put her hands behind her and dragged her to door. He struggled but he got it open and he pushed her out into the main office. A bunch of police officers, uniformed and plain-clothed, looked up at Cassie as she tried in vain to keep the bodice of her dress in place.

“What the fuck Zabinsky? You know that bitch is flagged you should leave her in the interview room and call the Feebs,” agent Stevens yelled at him.

“Fuck the FBI! I’m putting her in the gang related crime holding cell,” Zabinsky snapped back, pushing Cassie down an aisle crowded with filing cabinets towards a door marked ‘Cells’.

“You fucking have lost it. You can’t put a cooze in a cell with guys…especially those guys!” Stevens was making his way over through the maze of desks.

He got to Zabinsky and Cassie just as they got to the door to the cells.

“She ain’t a cooze Stevens,” Zabinsky whispered, looking around furtively.

“She a fucking trans,” he smirked.

“Well the Agency has rules about trans too; you can’t throw her in lockup with men. You gonna get yourself suspended, maybe worse” Stevens hissed.

“The bitch has a mouth on her and she has information I want. She spends the night in with the gangbangers or she talks. The Feebs don’t get her until tomorrow either way,” Zabinsky seethed.

“Fuck this! You’re on your own!” Stevens walked away.

Zabinsky pressed a button and an officer on the other side of the door let Zabinsky and Cassie through.

“Gimme the keys Charlie,” Zabinsky snapped at the young booking officer.

“Agent Zabinsky sir, you know I got procedures I have to…” Charlie tried meekly to respond.

“Fuck the procedures Charlie. Give me the fucking keys and go and get yourself a cup of coffee,” Zabinsky retorted and snatched the keys from Charlie’s hand.

Cassie remained moot through it all; her arm pushed way up her back, the other clutching the bodice of her dress.

Zabinsky half pushed and half dragged her down the passageway between the cells. The hookers in the first cell welcomed her to the party but were surprised when the man kept pushing her down the passageway. The hookers were in the only female holding cell.

The men in the other cells all leered, jeered and shouted obscenities and catcalls as Zabinsky led her to a large dimly let cell at the end of the corridor. It was the segregation cell where they kept gang members. There were four men sitting silently in the shadows.

“Last chance doll. You either cooperate or you spend the night with these guys,” he spun Cassie around so she faced him.

Cassie said nothing and looked at Zabinsky defiantly.

“I’ll come and check on you every four hours or so until you change your mind,” he shook her and then pushed her against bars and held her there with one hand while he unlocked the cell door with the other.

He pushed her inside, threw her high heels after her and slammed the door shut and locked it.

“Enjoy her boys but be careful; she’s got a pistol in her panties,” he guffawed and walked away.

Cassie picked up one of her highheels; she had been taught how to use it as makeshift weapon, she put her back against the bars and stared into the shadows of the dark cell. The cops deliberately kept the lights off during the day then turned them up to full-brilliance at night to disorient the gangbangers.

There were two black men and two Latinos sitting on bunks, segregated by race, but now with a common interest in Cassie. They all looked at her greedily then they looked at each other.

“You heard what Po-Po say. The bitch is trans,” one of the black men said.

“She fine lookin’ tho; and them look like real titties,” the other black man said.

The four men looked at each questioningly for only a second and then they came for her.

Cassie never stood a chance.

She wounded a couple of them but four against one was just too big odds. They eventually overpowered her and dragged into the shadows and onto one of the bunks. Two of them held her down while one of the guys ripped off her dress and the other poked his cock at her face.

“You bite this bitch and we gonna knock out all your teeth and then I’m going to cut you a new mouth ear to ear with this,” he waved a shank in front of Cassie’s face.

She had no choice and when the proffered phallus was pushed against her lips she opened her mouth and began to suck it. Resistance was futile, besides two of the guys held her down on the bed by her arms and legs so she was helpless.

The cot creaked as one of the men got on it behind her. He and the other man holding her ankles pulled her legs apart despite her struggles. Then she felt the cold steel of another shiv on her buttocks.

“You keep still bitch while I cut your pantyhose. If this shiv slips it might go right up your ass instead of my cock,” a Negro voice said from behind her.

She stopped struggling and sucked on the cock being forced into her mouth. She felt her pantyhose being sliced open at the crotch and the black man on the cot lay on top of her.

During her training she been advised that in an extreme situation like this, the best course of action was to comply. After what she had endured at the Clubhouse for days on end when she had been tied to the billiard table by Brin Sarsgaard and Kyle Shipton, she knew she could survive this. She just needed to minimise any injuries to herself and that was best done by compliance.

When she felt the man on top of her probe at her buttocks, rather than struggle, she lifted her buttocks to assist him with his entry. She felt the bulbous head of his penis enter her sphincter and silently thanked god that she was still lubricated by the moisturiser from Carlo’s bathroom and from the remains of his semen still inside her.

She squirmed a little to allow the man a better angle and then pushed back so that all of the mans hard cock was inside her.

“Man this bitch is good!” the man began to fuck her, rutting at her buttocks.

He reached under her, trying to squeeze her tits but they were pressed to the bed. She indicated her compliance and attempted to get to her knees, assisted by the man fucking her who helped her to her knees and then knelt between her legs and re-entered her. The two men holding her down let go and Cassie was able to support herself, kneeling on the cot on her hands and knees.

“She wants it fellas; she one horny bitch!” the man behind her gripped her thighs and started to fuck Cassie with long slow strokes and Cassie encouraged him by seductively gyrating her ass.

She slavered at the cock in her mouth and used her now free hand to hold the shaft while she suckled the glans, working her tongue on the fraenulum. The other two men played with her tits, squeezing her nipples and massaging the soft white globes.

The two men came quickly and Cassie swallowed the man’s semen when he ejaculated in her mouth and thrust back against the man fucking her as he emptied himself in her anus.

The two men who had been playing with her tits quickly replaced the men fucking her face and her ass and she gave them both what they wanted.

“Damn that was good!” one of men chuckled.

“You get some rest bitch; we gonna do this again!” one of the men said.

Cassie pulled the remnants of her dress around her and curled up on the bunk with cum leaking from her anus and the taste of it on her breath. She refused to cry.

When they came for again a few hours later they made her lie on her back so they could take turns fucking her missionary. The second Negro to fuck her had a large thick cock and knew how to use it. He took his time and worked it against her prostate and massage her cock while he fucked her.

They all laughed when she involuntary orgasmed. She couldn’t stop it, being taken against her will or not, the man fucked her so well she couldn’t repress the pleasure he was giving her.

When they had finished with her they made Cassie get dressed, anticipating that agent Paul Zabinsky would return.

He did. Not long after Cassie had pulled on the remains of her tattered dress for the second time.

“You had enough in there Rivers? You gonna talk to me?” Zabinsky called out.

Cassie put on her heels and stepped up to the bars.

“Fuck no Zabinsky! I like it in here. Why don’t you come in and join the party?” Cassie said sarcastically.

By the light at front of the cell Zabinsky could see that Cassie had been ravaged. Her dress was in tatters, her hosiery full of runners, her hair and makeup and ruined, her lips bruised. But there was something about her; she remained defiant and he had to admit, goddamn sexy, even like this.

“Hey you can take that nigger and spick cock all night for all I care; probably what you do at the clubhouse anyway,” Zabinsky was frustrated.

He felt for sure she would be ready to talk.

The men came for her twice more that night and both times she remained compliant and gave them what they wanted. In the early hours of the morning the Negro with the large thick cock who knew how to use it climbed onto her cot.

“Not again please,” Cassie begged.

She had had enough.

He held her close to him and kissed her.

“You are one pretty thing,” he whispered in her ear.

Reluctantly she kissed him back. The man took his time making love to her; kissing and caressing her, stroking her cock through the gusset of her pantyhose and gently stroking her nipples. She put her arms around him and kissed him back and writhed with pleasure.

“You like that don’t you,” he whispered.

Cassie mewed and slid beneath him.

He entered her slowly and they kissed while he did so. Cassie lifted her legs and locked them around the small of his back and put her arms around his neck and rose to meet him; encouraging him to fuck her.

They came together, he deep inside her and she against his belly.

“I think I’m keeping you all to myself,” the man smiled and caressed her face.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

When the other three came to take her again an hour later a fight broke out over her. The Negro with the big cock against the other three. For a while it was touch and go as to who would win; they were going at it with shanks and shivs but then the lights suddenly came on and the cell door clanged open.

Four plain clothed law enforcement officers entered the cell and set about spraying mace on the four gangbangers then beating them with Billy-clubs and herding them to the back of the cell.

Cassie was wrapped in a blanket and escorted out of the cells and back into the interview room where Natalie Styles stood in one corner wearing her usual navy-blue business suit and Christian Louboutin’s anxiously chewing a nail and smoking. She looked at Cassie in her torn dress, ruined nylons, distressed hair and makeup and bruised face being attended to by a female FBI field medic.

Natalie choked back a sob; she couldn’t display her affection for Cassie but she could display her anger at the ATF agent.

“You fuck! Why would you even think you could do that to this woman?” Natalie’s anger was near boiling point.

Paul Zabinsky sat in a chair, a petulant look on his face.

“I thought she was just some cooze you guys had busted and was snitching for you; I wanted information from her for an ATF investigation. Besides, she got cute with me and ran her mouth,” he replied churlishly.

“Also; you don’t get to swear at me you FBI bitch, it’s not like she’s even a real woman!”

Natalie kept herself under control…just.

“Do you deny that you kept an FBI flagged person of interest locked up for nearly twenty four hours without reporting to us that you had her in custody?” Natalie demanded.

“Fuck you,” Zabinsky scowled.

“Do you further deny that against Federal and California State law you unlawfully confined a vulnerable person in a place of danger?” Natalie said levelly.

“Fuck you and fuck the trans cooze. You have no jurisdiction here,” Paul Zabinsky made to get up but two equally burly FBI agents pushed him back down in his chair.

Natalie glared at an officer by the door who opened it to allow ATF agent Darren Stevens into the room.

“You fucking snitch Stevens,” Zabinsky fought against the FBI agents holding him down.

“I warned you,” Darren Stevens said and produced his handcuffs.

Paul Zabinsky struggled as Darren Steven cuffed him and read him his Miranda rights but the two FBI agents kept him well under control.

Natalie walked over to where Cassie was being tended to by the combat medic. The medic had cleaned up a few superficial cuts, given Cassie water to drink and was in the process of unwrapping a sterile disposable suit. Natalie and the medic being the only females in the room held up a blanket while Cassie stripped out of her ruined evening gown and struggled into the unflattering sterile jump suit.

“I suppose even a transvestite biker deserves some decorum,” Natalie maintained the ruse that she hated Cassie.

“Get her skinny tranny ass out of here; I want her debriefed at the Pasadena Field office,” Natalie growled.

“Ok everyone in this interview room. I was never here and this never happened!” Natalie barked.

Cassie was escorted out of the room past Paul Zabinsky who was standing next to the door being restrained by Darren Stevens and two FBI agents. She was escorted by the medic, a blanket draped over her shoulders but Zabinsky couldn’t help himself; he wanted the last word.

“Lucky you! You got that nigger and spick cock all night long and now you get a nice warm blanket,” he snickered.

Unfortunately for ATF agent Paul Zabinsky the FBI hadn’t thought to bring shoes for Cassie to wear and she was still wearing her own Christian Louboutin’s, so when she repeatedly kicked Zabinsky in the groin, the sharp spiked heels lacerated his scrotum and smashed his testes.

Is seemed to take quite a while for the agents present to subdue her; almost like they wanted her have a little revenge.

“Get her out of here!” Natalie screamed.


“I keep telling you; my ass ain’t skinny,” Cassie grinned through her bruised lips, when Natalie entered the room.

Natalie slammed the door behind her; locked it and strode over to Cassie and took her in her arms. She gently kissed Cassie’s forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks and finally her bruised lips.

“I’m so sorry,” tears ran down Natalie's face.

They were in the Pasadena FBI field office. As the agent in charge, Natalie had told the other agents she wanted to interview Cassie alone once she had been treated, bathed and given a change of clothes. It was a pretence for her to be alone with Cassie.

“Those gangbanger fuckers! You want help getting back at them?” Natalie looked Cassie square in the eyes.

“Nah. They were just doing what gangbangers do given the opportunity. The story will get around and it will help with my cover; the Feebs would never let that happen to one of their own. I used my tradecraft and now it’s all just blur. I’d like a few more minutes with Zabinsky though,” Cassie grinned although her lips smarted.

“That fuck! I hear he’s going to need some serious surgery on his penis and scrotum, your Christian Louboutin’s really fucked up his pecker. I told you they were good for field work,” Natalie smiled wanly at Cassie.

“But seriously; are sure you’re ok?” Natalie kissed Cassie again.

“Look. I’d hate to have gone through all this for nothing. Tell me you recovered the video off my cigarette case camera and the audio from my lighter?” Cassie looked expectantly at Natalie.

Natalie grinned.

“We got everything and both bugs in Carlo Ramirez house are transmitting.”

“Ok you know the drill. I’m going to march you out into the office, call you names and abuse you in front of everyone because you won’t snitch. Then I’m going to have an agent toss you outside.”

“The Medici Cartel double-agent here in the office will witness all that and report back to Carlo and Diego.”

“And later?” Cassie stroked Natalie’s face.

“Later when the coast is clear I’m coming around to your place and we’re going to spoon and snuggle all night. You can even kick my ass if it makes you feel better; I’m just sorry this had to happen,” Natalie was crying again.

Cassie kissed Natalie’s cheek.

“Harden up princess; you gotta kick my ass out of here,” Cassie stroked Natalie’s face one last time and prepared herself for more verbal abuse.

To be continued.

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