Biker Bitch Ch. 04

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Cassie makes the manager fuck the teller during a bank job.
5.3k words
4.73
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Part 4 of the 12 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 12/13/2017
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
3,903 Followers

Chapter Four: Felony

Dressing Cassie for her role had been the subject of much conversation and consternation during her training. She needed to dress in attire suitable for her to safely ride her bike and she needed to look attractive to the other bikers; but she couldn't look like 'fender fluff', she needed credibility.

She and Natalie had finally decided on what she would wear. She would squeeze into black skinny jeans, she also had some tight leather pants but they decided on denim for her first outing. The jeans were so tight that Cassie wore a pair of black pantyhose under them to make it easier for her to slide the jeans up her legs.

The pantyhose and skinny jeans also helped hold Cassie's gaff in place. She had been taught how to push her testes up inside her body and then tuck her penis between her legs, wrap her empty scrotum around it and then tape it in place so that she had a smooth mound in her panties and pants. She could even sit down to urinate without removing the gaff.

For her tops Cassie had selected some black spandex-cotton-blend longsleeved T-shirts. They were form-fitted and showed off her trim figure and her new pert titties to advantage.

Over her T-shirt she wore a fitted black leather jacket that zipped up the front. The outfit was complete with a pair of Falco Ayda black leather calf-high boots. At three hundred dollars and change they looked great, were comfortable, and most of all, practical.

California had compulsory helmet laws which a lot of bikers spurned or they wore 'Brain Buckets', small beanie-style helmets, but Cassie chose a black, full-face helmet with a tinted visor.

Dressed in tight black denim and leather with her helmet on and visor down she looked like a real mean sled-riding bitch. She also looked very fucking sexy, which was her intention.

Dressed like that with her usual heavy makeup and her black shoulder-length hair brushed out, she looked quite formidable as she mounted her bike. She kicked it over and revved it; she had played around with the baffles so that the Super Glide custom sounded mean. Not traditionally a one percenter sled, Cassie liked the bike regardless and had always wanted one.

She knew that the Beasts of Burden Motorcycle Club monthly meeting or 'church' would be taking place when she arrived at the clubhouse. All patch-holders and prospects had to attend unless they had a damn good excuse. They would all have ridden to the meeting on their bikes, wearing their colours as required by the by-laws of the club.

Civilians have this image that biker gangs are huge, mostly because the only time they see bikers is when the chapters get together and ride on mass. In reality most chapters are small, consisting of the six office holders, President, Vice President, Treasurer, Secretary, Road Captain and Sargent at Arms, and ten or twelve Patch-Holders. There will also likely be as many Prospects or Probies as they were often called. Any bigger and the chapters become unruly and factions develop. The biker mantra is brotherhood. Every brother supports every other brother, no matter what. Unless of course they breach the by-laws.

There were about twenty bikes parked in the yard at the Beasts of Burden clubhouse and Cassie reckoned she knew who owned every one of them. Cassie took a deep breath and rode into the fenced-in yard and stopped right next to the clubhouse. She revved her engine loud and hard and the perplexed looking probie, keeping anybody who shouldn't be there out of church and watching the bikes, ran over her way to investigate the cause of the raucous.

The chick on the bike looked hot in all that denim and leather but she would need to kill her engine before the guys inside came out to see what the commotion was about. The prospect would get ragged on for not doing his duty so he was in no mood for fucking around. Besides if this hot chick was curious about the MC he might just take her aside and teach her a thing or two, he thought as he ran over to her.

"Hey you can't..."

He never finished his sentence because Cassie punched him in the throat, using her knuckles to choke him. His hands flew to his neck and Cassie put a roundhouse punch on his jaw and knocked him out cold.

Then she went back to revving the fuck out the engine of her bike.

Inside the clubhouse Steve Monahan was trying to talk to the assembled bikers and was getting really pissed off; no one interrupted the President and some asshole was revving his bike right outside the window behind him.

"Fuck!" he slammed his gavel on the table and went to the window.

He pulled the curtain aside just enough to see outside.

"What the fuck?" he was not expecting to see a tight-assed woman on a bike.

Cassie saw the curtain move and she killed the engine, put the bike on its stand, and dismounted. Steve had a great view of her ass as she did so and figured once he had this bitch disciplined, he might take a piece.

Cassie knew that no weapons were allowed at monthly meeting, nor mobile phones for that matter. But there was still a lot of guys in there and even though she figured she could beat them all one on one, as a group they were a formidable bunch. This was going to be the most dangerous thing she had done since she got out of that hole in the desert.

"Here we go!" she whispered and opened the door to the clubhouse.

Her presence took everyone by surprise and she waited until she was inside until she took off her helmet and shook out her hair for full effect. Most of the guys gasped and some murmured, but they were still at a club meeting so there was no talking without the president's permission.

She doubted any of them had figured out who she was. They were just amazed to see this gorgeous babe in leathers interrupt their meeting.

She made her way unscathed through the members to the long oak table where the Office Bearers sat. Brin Sarsgaard, the Sargent at Arms pushed back his chair but Steve put out his arm to keep him seated.

"What the fuck do want missy? You got thirty seconds to speak your piece then I'm going to let this guy loose on you," Steve grinned at her ruthlessly.

"Oh he's been let loose on me before Mister President. But next time I won't be so accommodating," Cassie replied confidently.

"Anyway I'll tell you what I want. I want the patch I'm entitled to, having been your prospect for years, having abided by all the chapter's by-laws, and completed all tasks required of me."

There was another murmur from the membership but the flash of anger in Steve and Brin's eyes was enough to silence them.

"My father founded the Beasts of Burden MC He was the founding member of the original chapter, and membership is my right," Cassie declared.

Recognition flashed across the eyes of the Office Bearers and other bikers seated near the front of the meeting. Steve and Brin jumped to their feet.

"I thought you were rotting the dessert! I should have guessed something was wrong when that probie didn't return," Brin snarled.

"And yet you never thought to dig up the grave and check? Some Sargent at Arms you are," Cassie said sarcastically.

"Anyway there are a thousand reasons why you can't be a patch-holder," Brin snapped.

"Name one!" Cassie challenged him.

"You're a chick; well you certainly look like one anyway," he snapped back at her.

"Nothing in the by-laws or the mother club constitution says a woman can't join. Besides technically I'm not a chick," Cassie grinned.

Every set of eyes in the clubhouse zeroed in on her crotch. It looked like a chick's crotch; there was no bulge to see, in fact a nice camel-toe was presented.

Cassie laughed.

"You're all looking in the wrong place. This is where the real stuff is," Cassie unzipped her jacket.

The skin-tight shirt beneath it showed off her rack to full advantage.

"Any more reasons Brin?"

Brin flinched when she used his name. It was the poorest of etiquette to use a biker's name unless you were a full-patch member of the same club or his friend.

"Even if we let you in, and it would have to be a near unanimous vote, how would you handle yourself? How could you, a weedy guy in the first instance now returned as a woman, protect other brothers or help out in a fight," Brin was seething.

"Why don't you come here and find out. When I knock you out, that will be one less vote against me," Cassie baited him.

"Fuck this! I know there's no fighting in church but let me take this bitch out!" Brin was enraged.

Stave Monahan nodded and Brin leapt at Cassie which was exactly what she expected him to do. She stepped aside with lightning speed and Brin breezed past her and crashed into the wall. Cassie shouted olé and kicked him in the ass.

A couple of members snickered seeing the Sargent at Arms outwitted by a girl. This made Brin angrier which was exactly what she wanted. He turned and charged at her and Cassie used his momentum to smash his head into the oak table. He fell to the ground and she punched him twice in the face although she didn't need to, he was out cold.

She kicked him hard; right in groin.

"You know what that's for you rapist fuck!" she seethed.

She got her emotions back under control.

"May I address the meeting?" she politely asked the club president who was too stunned to say no.

She turned so that she was side-on, facing both the Office Bearers and the assembly.

"Are you dumbasses too stupid to see how having a patched chick would work to your advantage?"

"Having a good looking cooze in the room when you're making a deal can be real advantageous. No one suspects the hot babe to be packing and you certainly ain't gonna let anyone pat me down, just like you wouldn't let anyone touch your old ladies."

"The other guys will be off guard and distracted."

"I can go into places you guys would never get into. I can be dressed in a evening gown or a lady's business suit and blend in. I can case potential jobs for you, collect intelligence. Fuck I could probably infiltrate other clubs if you wanted."

"I meet all the requirements in the by-laws for membership. Even though half of you fuckers used me like a whore and then tried to kill me I kept my mouth shut and I came back to where I belong."

"It's my heritage! Fuck it! It's my right!" she said impassionedly.

"Besides, it's 2013 and this club is way behind on it's gender diversity quotient," she grinned at her own joke.

The members all laughed at her gag and then one of the bikers stood and spoke.

"So who nominates her? Who is her sponsor? The rules are rules and if it's ok for a chick to be patched then all she need do is to follow the protocol."

The room went quiet and then Dale Clifford stood.

"I've been Cameron, now Cassandra Rivers, sponsor since he, I mean she, became a prospect. Her credentials are beyond reproach. Sure 'he' is now a 'she' but it is 2013 for fuck sake! Give her a chance," Dale said.

The president of the club, Steve Monahan banged his gavel.

"Well? What do you say?" he asked the assembly.

Everyone except for Kyle Shipton raised their hands.

"In accordance with our by-laws Cassie Rivers becomes a full member and patch-holder of the Beasts of Burden Motorcycle Club. But this shit ain't finished! Cassie, you and the office holders stay behind, and so do you Dale. We got shit needs to be sorted!" Steve banged his gavel and the rest of the MC members retired to the bar.

"Ok. This is difficult on all sorts of fucking levels. You were a guy, now you're a girl. Your dad founded the MC but I approved your dispatch and disposal. So what the fuck? You really wanna ride with the Beasts; even after what we did to you?" Steve lit a cigarette.

Cassie nodded.

"I've earned it," she replied.

"Yeah. You might have, but I want insurance," Steve said flicking ash off his cigarette.

"You prove your loyalty to the club by committing a felony. Not some lazy ass DUI or assault, something that will put you away for life if you get convicted. Also you need to contribute. You need to do something that will add to the Club's coffers to prove your worth."

"And you, you smiling jerk. You make sure she comes up with the goods, otherwise you will both end up as lone wolves with no protection," Steve snarled at Dale Clifford and the rest of the office holders nodded.

"You got a week to prove yourself Cassie."

Cassie turned on her heels and strutted out of the meeting room with Dale following closely behind. He couldn't help but stare at her tight buns in those skintight jeans.

Cassie stopped at the bar and nodded at the cooler and the prospect behind the bar gave her a beer. Dale nodded and took a beer too and stood beside Cassie.

"You sure know how to make an entrance," he held out his beer and Cassie clinked hers to it.

Cassie sipped her beer as the wheels turned in her head.

"Ok I gotta ask. When we took you out to the desert you were a decent looking transvestite, but that was obviously what you were. Now you're this hot looking babe with great tits. Fuck you even talk like a chick! What the fuck happened to you?"

Cassie smiled and spun her back story.

"You know we are gonna check down in Mexico with Doctor Hernandez about him fixing you up after you escaped. The hotel and medical records will also be easy to verify."

"But you seriously worked as a hooker and then started dealing drugs, saving money to get your tits done? And then put together enough cash to buy a bike and move back here?" Dale sounded quite astounded.

"I have busts down there for both solicitation and drug dealing; neither of which I am proud of but I had to make a living. Then I met up with Diego Martinez, he's connected to one of the cartels and he got a forged American passport for me and I switched to smuggling drugs across the border. Those Border Guards just loved feeling me up when they frisked me but they were too stupid to check the false bottom of my fuel tank. I was only smuggling five kilos a time but it paid well," Cassie grinned.

"Fuck you've come a long way in four months Cassie," Dale grinned.

"But none of that will trade with Steve Monahan, he want's you to do a job here in the USA where he can use the threat of handing you over for a felony conviction to keep you in line."

"Yeah well I have a few ideas. A few irons in the fire so to speak," Cassie sipped her beer.

"I suppose it's way to early for me to ask to take you home?" Dale gave her his handsomest smile.

Cassie leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"You still let them put me in a hole Dale; I haven't forgiven you for that yet," Cassie smiled wanly and hopped off her stool.

Dale watched her ass right up until she left the clubhouse.

Cassie pulled out her iphone and called Natalie Styles.

"Ok I'm in; I survived the first day. But we got our first problem; I need to meet you and get this fixed," Cassie spoke into the phone.

"Ok. I'll meet you at the place," Cassie ended the call and climbed on her bike.

Cassie met Natalie in a rest stop just outside of the city and explained the situation. Natalie took it all in and took a few notes.

"I think I got something that will work well for you. I'll email you the details tomorrow and then call to sort out the finer points," Natalie said.

"So you're a fucking bees-dick away from becoming a full-patch member of the Beasts of Burden MC? Who the fuck would have thought," Natalie shook her head.

"You must have been confident I could pull it off. All the time, effort and money the FBI has put into me," Cassie looked at her questioningly.

"I gave you fifty, fifty," Natalie said and got out of Cassie's BMW and slammed the door.

Five days later Cassie and Dale sat in a stolen Ford Mustang sipping coffee staring across the road at the façade of the Slater and Gordon Development Bank. It was located across the state line in Nevada and its main purpose was to funnel money for a small mob syndicate and for the Vikings MC, an outlaw motorcycle club that had no love for the Beasts of Burden.

"So the deal is that the bank manager and his assistant arrive early and do their administration and shit before the time lock on the vault kicks in. Then the manager uses his combination to open that fucker up," Cassie explained.

"It's only a small branch with two tellers who won't arrive until ten anyway; the place is really just a clearing house for laundered money from the Vikings and a small time mob boss but on most days there is north of three hundred K in the vault," Cassie smiled.

"How do you know this shit?" Dale asked.

"Hey, during my sabbatical I not only got my tits and face done; I made some connections," Cassie winked and tapped the side of her nose.

"And our story is that we represent a Californian developer who needs to park a lot a cash out of state but needs it readily available when required. Some sort of semi-legit land baron," Dale said.

"Yep. And that's why we are both dressed in business suits and have an early appointment, as requested by our non-existent boss. These guys are just too greedy," Cassie smiled reaching for the door handle.

"Get your game face on and remember how we planned this to go," Cassie eased out of the driver's seat of the big saloon and Dale got a nice view of her gossamer-clad legs as her tight skirt rode up.

Cassie smoothed her skirt and waited for Dale to join her; they both carried slim briefcases and looked the very picture of business professionals as they crossed the deserted street to the bank.

Cassie's highheels click-clacked on the pavement and as they approached the bank Cassie nodded at Dale who nodded back. They opened the door to the bank, stepped inside and closed it behind them. Dale turned the lock.

The place looked just like the plans and pictures they had perused; a small open space with two teller windows, two small offices for the manager and his assistant and not much else. But security was tight. They checked out the security cameras, one in each corner of the bank ceiling, one in each office and, unseen but known to Cassie and Dale, two in the vault.

"Ah! Mister Knowles and Miz Jenkins from Bradford developments," the manager came out of his office extending his hand, followed by his assistant.

They were expecting an early morning business meeting but their smiles turned to frowns as both Cassie and Dale pulled out their pistols and levelled them at the two bank employees.

"You both know the drill. In event of a robbery you comply with the robbers wishes and do nothing to endanger your staff or yourself," Dale pointed his gun into the manager's face.

Cassie pointed hers at the female assistant.

The manager looked to be in his forties and was well dressed in a dark business suit. He was trim and good looking; he obviously took care of himself.

The assistant was in her late twenties. She was tall and leggy, wearing a grey business suit, the skirt of which rested a little too high on her thighs, a white blouse that looked like it might be chiffon, sheer tan hosiery and black pumps. Her dark hair was swept back and rested on her shoulders and her dark eye makeup and red lipstick made her look almost like a forties era movie starlet.

Cassie and Dale herded the two employees over to the wall where there was a counter for customers to fill-in deposit and withdrawal slips; it looked like it had never been used. They both put a finger to their lips indicating for the bank staff to remain silent.

The manager looked around angrily but the woman looked absolutely terrified.

"You'll never get away this! Do you know whose money is deposited in this bank!" the manager snarled.

Dale smacked him on the side of his face with his revolver.

"Shut the fuck up and do what you're told," he said menacingly.

"I can't open the vault until the time lock activates and anyway I refuse to open the safe or give you the combination!" the manager was trying to show bravado.

MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
3,903 Followers
12