The Wrong Bar
A True Story
Copyright Deni Wom and Doni 2005


“Where are you taking me tonight?” Deni asked, her eyes flirting with the young man beside her. She had a sexy smile on her face. He was her college
classmate, and they had worked on several projects together in class. Dick was intelligent and Deni liked that in a man.

“You’ll see!” he replied cryptically. He drove for several miles, out to the edge of town. Upon passing the city limits, he told her to close her eyes, somehow overplaying his hand using drama that did not need to be engaged.

Deni dutifully closed her eyes. Soon she felt Dick’s car turn into an unpaved parking lot and pull to a stop.

“Keep your eyes closed babe!” Dick said forcefully. Deni squeezed her eye lids tightly together. She heard his car door open, then close. Then the passenger door opened and Dick’s hand pulled on her arm. She slid toward his touch, allowing him to help her get out of the car, still keeping her eyes closed.
Dick helped her step onto a low porch, then guided her through a door. The stench of sweat and cigar smok in the building almost overpowered Deni. Gamely she kept her eyes closed.

Dick guided her to a table and encouraged her to sit down on a chair he held for her. Settling into the chair, Deni waited impatiently, a really bad feeling
gripping her.

“OK, you can open your eyes now!” Dick’s voice held an insipid smugness.

Deni opened her eyes to find herself in a biker bar. The bar was filled with large unwashed men dressed in black leathers and jean jackets with skull and cross
bones on their back.

Stunned, Deni looked at Dick. His face was tight, as though his false bravado was beginning to evaporate. What on earth had possessed him to bring them here she wondered?

“Hey YOU! BITCH! Come her and suck my dick, you
fucking cunt!”

Dick’s head snapped around, staring at the huge mountain of a man that had insulted his date. The biker leaned forward, staring at Dick with hate filled eyes. Then he spat “YOU bitch, you damn cock sucking faggot.” There was no question in Dick’s mind now, The huge man wanted HIM to suck his him off!
Terror filled his face. It was more than Dick could handle. Abandoning his plans of showing off his machismo, he turned and fled the bar, leaving Deni alone. A huge man closed the door behind her date’s fleeing figure, staring at her as if to dare her to try to leave. She sat there, watching the man that
had terrorized her date.

Deni would remember, with crystal clarity, the next few moments for the rest of her life. The huge man got up and walked over to the table she was seated at.

“Hi honey! Wanna fuck?”

“No.” She held his eyes as she refused to be cowed. “Well sweet young thang, you ain’t got no choice! I’m gonna fuck ya full of biker cum tanight, whether y’all
like it or not. Only question is whether yur still alive when I’m done fuckin ya! How you like them beans, bitch?”


Someone from across the room yelled “Hey Jack! That
your new bike ornament man?” A long bellow of drunken
laughter followed. A hulking form appeared behind
Jack, clapping him on his shoulder so hard that his
whole body shook.

“Get chur fuckin faggot hands off me, asshole!”
The newcomer sneered at Jack as he pulled up another
dilapidated chair and sat down. “Hey Joe! Two shots
a Tequila for the little lady!”

“Get the fuck away from ma woman asshole!”
The newcomer ignored Jacks crude demands.

Another man appeared bedside the new comer. He was
thin, lanky, and had huge, badly scared hands. “What
cha got here, Hulk?”

Both of the other men seemed to quiet as the thin man
stood there staring at Deni.

Hulk finally answered “Awww, nuthin, Mick, just found
a lil woman that wants a good fuckin.”

Mick looked at Deni with eyes that seemed to be filled
with sadness. “That true lil darling? You lookin for
a good fuckin tanight?”

Deni returned his stare, then shook her head. “No.”
Mick chuckled. “No? Then what the hell you doin here
lil sweet thang?”

“My friend brought me here.”

“Which friend might that be? I don’t see none a yer
friends here!”

Jack spoke up. “Some faggot that was fraid to suck ma
dick!”

“Shit man, that be every damn faggot you ever met,
Jack!”

Hulk snorted in derision and added “Your deformed dick
be too ugly to suck anyways Jack!”

“Nothing wrong with how my dick looks asshole.”
All three men had their lecherous eyes latched on to
Deni’s tits. Deni was acutely aware of how she had
decided to dress of her date with Dick. Low cut
blouse. What she would not give to have her cleavage
covered right now.

Hulk put his hand out as if to grab her right breast.
Without even flinching, Deni pressed her thumb against
the inner part of his wrist, and a split second later
tapped his upper forearm. Hulks hand closed on her
breast. Deni reached into his crotch and pressed his
inner thigh.

Hulk suddenly slouched back into his chair, his head
lolling to the side. The other two men were still
staring at Deni’s tits, unaware of what had just
transpired with their biker buddy.

Jack stood up then reached down to grab Deni’s arm,
intending to yank her up and dance with her in his
arms, not intending to allow her feet to touch the
floor. Treat her like the lifeless rag doll that he
saw her as. To him, she was just a cunt to fuck and a
face to beat up.

Deni drove the knuckle of the middle finger on her
right hand about a half inch into the fleshy muscle of
his left quadricep as he stepped to her side. Not far
enough to cause pain, but far enough to strike his
point of vulnerability. Then, as he rudely raised her
right arm, she tapped the back of his elbow with the
upper knuckle of her thumb. As he picked her up by
her waist, she gently tapped his inner ankle.

Jack collapsed to the floor.

“Drunk asshole!” Deni exclaimed, trying to cover up
her deliberate mischief.

Mick stood there appraising her as she again sat down.
Deni was unsure if he had figured out her game or not.
She decided to let him float a bit before she took
him out as well. When he told her he was going to
take her for a bike ride, she readily agreed, knowing
that way she would be out of the bar when she dropped
him.

Mick took her hand, surprisingly gently, and led her
to his souped-up Harley parked front-and-center
outside the front door. He held her arm and as she
prepared to swing her leg over the seat behind him.
She gripped his wrist, pressing on the soft spot
between his ligaments. Once she was seated, she
reached down and pressed his lower abdomen on the
right side of his pubic hair.

After Mick had started the Harley, Deni reached up and
pressed her finger into the soft spot below and behind
his left ear. As he slumped forward, she shoved him
off his bike and slid forward. In a second she had it
in gear and took off down the highway, breathing a
deep sigh of relief.

All the training she had taken had finally paid off
big time for her. She thanked God for the friend that
had talked her into getting involved with martial
arts.

She hated to think what would have happened to her had
she not stayed with her training for those five years
since her husband’s death.

The End