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I was a club whore.
I never beat around the bush or made up excuses. It was what it was. Was it my proudest moment? Not really, but I can’t say that I hated it either.
A club girl’s job was to keep the members of the club happy. In other words, we were mainly there for sex. We also cooked and cleaned, but if you asked a member what a club girl was good for, I have no doubts you’d get a crude remark about her pussy or tits.
I was the property of the Brothers by Blood MC. Some people tended to take offense to the term‘property’but I never really saw it as anything negative. Being the property of the club meant that you were important. It meant that the club needed you and would go out of their way to make sure that you were looked after.
Sure, what I did for the club often made others cringe. I was at these mens every beck and call. I cleaned up after them, I cooked for them and when they were horny, I was there to fuck them.
Let’s not try to pretty it up or make it seem like it was some sort of glamorous job.
Some saw us as sluts, whores, and a few choice other names. Each to their own I suppose, I’ve been called a lot worse. I’ve had to deal with more than a few judgmental woman and chauvinistic men – because let’s face it, bitches and assholes aren’t only in motorcycle clubs.
I prefer to think more that I’m a single woman, and while I could be going out every night and fucking random men I pick up from a bar or club, I have a clubhouse full of men who are willing to care about, protect me, and pay for my tuition to college, and what do I have to do? Have sex and clean up a little.
Sounds like a win-win to me.
I loved sex.
The cleaning – not so much.
I didn’t feel as though it was anyone else’s business how I conducted myself sexually. I didn’t do it in front of anyone who wasn’t part of the club, I didn’t do it with anyone who wasn’t part of the club, and I sure as hell didn’t talk about it to anyone who wasn’t part of the club.
When it came to the Brothers by Blood, you learned fast that keeping your mouth shut was essential.
Run your mouth, risk your life.
So far, I had no regrets.
“Hey, Chelsea!”
Hearing my name, I turned to find Rose running up behind me. Rose was a classmate – we were working toward the same degree. She’d transferred here from up north a few weeks ago when her parents bought into a business down here. We’d been thrown together on a pair assignment recently and without Harmony around, and the fact that I didn’t have a great relationship with some of the other club girls, I found myself being pulled toward her. It was also a bonus that she was awesome, fun and great to talk to.
She was the only girl who had tried to befriend me and wasn’t looking for a way into the club. Lots of girls tried to nosey their way in by acting like your BFF, but all they wanted was to sleep with the brothers at the MC. Good on them. Go for it. But I didn’t need nor want fake friends.
I smiled as she jogged over to me. “HHHey, what’s up?”
She pulled up beside me and fell into step as we made our way toward our first class of the morning. “Was just wondering what you were up to tonight?”
I raised my eyebrows at her, the look very sarcastic.
She didn’t hold her straight face for long, a giggle soon escaping. “Okay, okay. Stupid question.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to spend the night with some drool worthy alpha male biker who will worship your body like the world is going to end tomorrow.”
I laughed. “Girl, you should write romance novels, I think I just came.”
She scoffed. “No wonder the men love you then, they don’t have to put in any effort. Lazy bastards.”
I shrugged. “Honestly, you’ve never had sex until you’ve fucked a big ol’ biker with a dirty mouth.”
That was another thing I liked about Rose, she may not have been fighting to get in with the club and sleep with the men, but she was not shy about her sexuality.
“Are there any days or nights that you are free from the sexy huge cocked, foul-mouthed men. My family are kind of being real bastards and I don’t have any other good girlfriends around to have a night out with.” She scuffed her feet gently against the concrete path as we stopped outside the classroom.
I couldn’t help but smile. This is what I needed. A friend outside the club.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved the club with all my heart. But the reality of the situation was, I never intended being a club girl for the rest of my life. I regarded it as only a way to have fun and get through college. I’d be graduating in a couple months, once the semester was finished and then I would want to find a job - start a career.
My ambition was sports therapy. But I have the knowledge and background to do other fitness based things like personal training.
