Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Yooko Ortega was a hefty man in his mid-fifties with long, black hair, a bushy mustache, and a double chin.
His shoulders were so wide that he had to twist to fit through most doorframes.
At seven-two, he probably weighed somewhere around four hundred and fifty pounds.
Though his parents immigrated from Mexico when he was a child, he was as Kama?āina as I was.
He owned a trucking company east of Kahalu?u Beach. It was housed in an old building that had weathered hurricanes, tsunamis, big storms, and a lot of years in the blazing sun. The ceiling tiles were cracked, the linoleum was stained, and the reception counter was held together by duct tape.
But no one came to Truck on the Go for the esthetics.
Yooko and I were business associates before the club partnered with his trucking company.
I used Yooko’s trucks to move my guns when needed and Yooko used my men as extra security when he hosted certain events.
When he wanted to film festivities, he would rent camera equipment from Aloiki’s porn studio.
Yooko might make a pretty penny renting trucks, but his real business was sex.
In the simplest of explanations, his utility trucks were a brothel on wheels.
To cover the profits he earned at the brothel, he made fake rental agreements to launder the money.
It really was ingenious. He had one hard and fast rule: no kids.
I supported that unequivocally.
Yooko’s flesh trade was completely consensual, and he had both men and women workers of varying sexualities.
He’d actually rescued a number of his workers from the streets, gave them three meals a day, access to healthcare, and provided them with a roof over their heads.
He was good people, who looked after his workers.
And he didn’t judge. Some people just liked sex with strangers, and he provided a safe way to do it.
Behind the rundown building was a concrete slab that had once been a kids’ basketball court.
All fifteen of Yooko’s utility trucks—six of them new since the Royal Bastards partnered with his business—were arranged in a large circle.
During the day, the vehicles were on the move, the general populous completely oblivious to the depravity going on right next to them.
Now, they were parked in reverse to face away from the flames of the bonfire raging in the center.
Their backs were open and Yooko was even kind enough to put a sign by the right rear tires, letting people know what proclivity was offered within.
Music blared loud enough to cover the slapping of flesh and the moans of pleasure.
Both men and women walked around clothed, partly clothed, and fully naked as they journeyed between the trucks and the bar.
There was a Royal Bastard brother as well as one of my security men at each truck. All five Prospects wore cuts with only a single rocker and were at Yooko’s customers’ disposal—except for sex. They were also responsible for keeping the bonfire blazing.
Now that the barn’s construction was complete, we partied there most nights with only one or two of us needed at Yooko’s. Nights like tonight, though, when he had all fifteen trucks in use, required all of us here to assist.
A more recent addition to the area was an aerial pole.
Yooko had never had such entertainment before, but Bacon had added the pole for Holly.
One of her favorite hobbies was pole dancing.
She had multiple poles of different types at the house, including in hers and Bacon’s sex dungeon that was completely off limits to the club.
Bacon and Holly shared a Dominant/submissive relationship, and though they had no intention of getting married, they were entirely committed to each other.
He didn’t care that others were watching his woman’s performance, but he sure as fuck wasn’t leaving her side or allowing anyone else to touch her.
This was the second time Holly had joined us at Yooko’s, and just like last time, she wore a feathered owl mask that covered most of her face.
The first time I saw that mask, I understood why Bacon’s nickname for Holly was “Little Owl”.
I wasn’t entirely thrilled about being here tonight. I couldn’t get last night out of my head, and the memory of Caroline’s face so close to mine haunted me like a lapu, a ghost. It wouldn’t have taken much. I could have craned my neck forward and—
Fuck! No! I pressed the heel of my hands to my eyes. I barely slept last night, that puny couch so close and yet too fucking far.
It wasn’t even just about getting into bed with Caroline.
Yes, I fantasized about her far, far more than I should.
Every time she was close to me, it was like a flame to my skin.
I wanted to touch her, taste her, hold her, teach her things about her own body she likely had no idea about… But it was more than that.
I wanted what I thought I had with Kalea. I wanted a partner, not just a lover.
Caroline was so timid. It was going to take far more than a month to get her to open up, to develop into the woman she was meant to become.
Her trauma was different than I expected, though that did not make it any less damaging.
I did not know what she discussed with her therapist, but she clearly had a warped sense of gender roles.
I wanted to see her stand on her own two feet—even if that meant I wasn’t standing beside her.
Samantha felt like mine. Every time she learned something new, every time she grew more and more into her personality that had been squashed for so many years, it felt like my own triumph. I was fucking proud of her. She was so curious, about everything. But I wanted to be “Daddy”, not “Tangy”.
I didn’t want to just be their protector. I wanted to be theirs.
I wanted to wake up next to Caroline, my large body wrapped around hers so she knew, even in sleep, that I had her. I wanted Samantha to come running into our bedroom, hopping on the bed and demanding pancakes for breakfast.
I wanted to see Caroline swell with my child.
I wanted, I wanted, I wanted… I never knew I was so selfish. A bastard, a murderer, sure. I owned those titles. But selfish? That wasn’t me. Ever since Aloiki had kicked down that door in that fucking basement, I didn’t feel like me.
Dropping my hands, I looked around. Holly was dancing not too far from me with Bacon guarding her like a bulldog.
Aloiki had made an appearance earlier before returning to be with Lu.
Because he was there, I didn’t have to assign a guard for Samantha and Caroline in my absence.
I didn’t like it, but they would mostly likely stay in my room the whole night.
Even though they had free rein of the house like the rest of us, they didn’t tend to do a lot of exploring when I wasn’t there.
I pulled my phone out and shot off a quick text to Aloiki.
Me: Keep your fucking pants on tonight. The girls are home.
I got a response back almost immediately.
Aloiki: Done.
I was surprised by his quick agreement, until I saw his next message.
Aloiki: You said nothing about Lu’s pants.
I scowled at my phone. He knew fucking well what I had meant! I didn’t care that all he had to do was lower his zipper while keeping his pants on, as per my first text. I did not want Caroline to walk downstairs to get something to eat or drink, and find Aloiki and Lu fucking on the couch.
I switched threads.
Me: Please keep both yours and Aloiki’s pants on tonight. The girls are upstairs.
Lu: Aloiki’s out at the barn. I’m with Samantha and Caroline.
I let out a sigh of relief.
Me: Mahalo.
I switched threads again.
Me: Dick.
I did not get a reply, though I didn’t expect to. Aloiki didn’t text or touch his phone unless he had to. He’d destroyed so many recently that Neo had started giving him old Nokia phones instead of replacing his smartphone.
The truck I was monitoring had a line. Unlike the others that had specific setups, almost like the way we’d reconstructed the barn, my truck had a man and a woman on their knees, willing to blow or eat someone out to get them in the mood for the other trucks.
Or if someone just wanted oral instead of entering into a scene or gangbang.
I looked inside. My cock twitched, because I wasn’t dead, but I didn’t feel the pull to join in.
Before we’d joined the Royal Bastards, I’d attended a number of Yooko’s events like this.
It was guaranteed sex without the drama of an introduction, and I didn’t have to worry about hurting someone’s feelings when I walked away.
I was just one cock among a sea of anonymous cocks.
I should want to join in. I should join in. Beyond that members were allowed to partake so long as it did not impede our duties, I was the fucking VP. Without Aloiki here, I was the highest ranking member. No one had the stones to call me out.
I looked into the back of the truck again.
The woman was getting her throat fucked.
She chose to have her wrists bound, chains hanging down from the bracer above her.
The man, however, was free. Another man had his hands up against the wall of the truck while Yooko’s employee ate his ass out like it was his favorite meal.
It wasn’t just men waiting in line to partake.
There was also a woman or two in each line.
Yooko was careful with his employees when he selected who went into what truck during these events.
The signs outside each truck also stated what sexuality the employee was and whether they allowed the same or opposite gender into the truck.
Which was where the Royal Bastards and my security came in. It wasn’t unusual for someone to not read the rules or blatantly ignore them. People were fucking stupid, and the entitlement was never ending.