The Pop Concert That Went Wrong

This is a damsel-in-distress bondage story featuring non-consensual scenarios and a lot of sexist points of view that I do not in any way endorse! Please exercise reader discretion and give it a miss if such elements are likely to upset you.

1. Natalie

One hour to go, Natalie thought nervously. Sixty minutes before everything changed.

The dressing room seemed empty without the rest of the band. The pretty blonde 23-year-old had arrived early, but Hana would probably be late, and she wasn't completely sure that Victoria would arrive at all - one more thing for her to worry about. Natalie couldn't understand why her bandmates worried so much less than her, while they probably didn't see what there was to be so stressed about; they were all so different. But that was partly why the band worked so well, Natalie thought. They weren't identikit brats off the stage-school conveyor belt: they were three individual, independent young women with their own lives and hopes and dreams. The fans responded to that. That magical chemistry had made Spice Riot one of the most successful girlbands in the world.

The

most successful, Natalie reminded herself... or they would be after tonight, if all went to plan. It was Spice Riot's biggest ever concert, taking place at an enormous stadium, and simultaneously broadcast live at other venues across the world. After tonight Spice Riot would be

huge

.

Trying not to think about the time, or to wonder where the other girls had got to, Natalie started to put on the costume she had chosen for the show: a smart white tuxedo that she considered to be the perfect blend of style and dignity. Natalie was strongly against clothes that could be perceived as objectifying, as were the rest of the band; looking at the crisp, elegant shirt, bow tie and tails in the mirror she thought to herself how proud she was that they had achieved so much without compromising on their feminist ideals. They didn't feel the need to dress provocatively to get attention, to make pop videos full of cleavage and sensual dancing or pose in their underwear for men's magazines. After checking her appearance carefully in the mirror, Natalie sat down to wait for the others, and picked up the book she had been reading,

The Beauty Myth

.

2. Ricky

Making his way through the labyrinthine corridors and tunnels backstage at the stadium, Ricky was both hopelessly lost and furious. As always when annoyed by small inconveniences, his thoughts began to drift to bigger problems, namely his so-called career and how it went wrong. He had come so close to success: several years ago he took part in a reality TV show called

Battle Of The Sexes

, in which a boyband and girlband were selected and trained and then competed to win the Christmas number 1. Ricky had been selected for the boyband, a trio of confident young men who called themselves Boyz 4 Reel and were sure they would triumph. But they lost easily, even humiliatingly, to their female rivals, Spice Riot. After two more miserably unsuccessful singles the boys were dropped from their label, and had struggled to get work ever since, while the girls went from strength to strength. The boys were very bitter about this.

But Ricky allowed himself a smile, knowing he would soon be able to get his revenge... if he could only find his way through these stupid corridors.

3. Hana

Hana climbed unhurriedly out of her car, a Ferrari two-seater, and threw the keys to the valet. In theory the dark-haired Korean beauty was in disguise; she was wearing a generic short skirt and tight top from a high-street chain, and big sunglasses covered much of her face. But the valet knew exactly who she was, and asked for an autograph. She said no, and laughed. "Sorry," she said, "but I'm in a hurry. Also, I think autographs are ridiculous."

They

were

ridiculous. Everything about being a 'celebrity' struck her as ridiculous, even now. The 25-year-old ought to have got used to it, having worked in girlbands far longer than Natalie or Victoria - she joined Spice Riot from a Korean group, having grown sick of the way K-pop idols were treated back home - but it still seemed weird. She was conscious that many other women were doing far more important work for far less recognition, and often wondered if show business had any value at all. Then again, she reminded herself, many girls and young women had been introduced to the concepts of fourth-wave feminism through Spice Riot's music, and this would be especially true of the new album the band would be unveiling tonight:

Girl, Woman, Other

.

Hana walked into the stadium where the band would be performing that night. She was running a little late, but despite what she said to the valet, didn't seem too bothered, and she stopped to answer her phone. It was her agent, and they spoke at length.

4. Peter

Peter was stressed out. As the manager of Spice Riot, he was extremely conscious of the importance of tonight's concert. Tens of millions of fans around the world would be watching, any number of things could go wrong, and he would be blamed if they did. It was a thankless job. A precarious one, too: the band grudgingly accepted that he was good at what he did, but made no secret of their dislike of the idea of having a male manager. He knew they had spoken to several potential female replacements.

He knocked on the door of the girls' dressing room to ask if they were ready, and if they knew how soon the concert started. "Stop worrying," Natalie laughed, a tiny bit hypocritically. "And don't take this the wrong way, Pete, but for God's sake will you please leave us alone!"

5. Natalie

Annoyed by Peter's nagging, Natalie stuck out her tongue cheekily, and then went back to her book. "Why do we have to be managed by a man?" she wondered rebelliously. "What does that look like when we're supposed to be feminist icons?" She hated being told what to do, but particularly hated being told what to do by a man.

There was another knock on the door, and Natalie got up and threw it open so she could tell Peter to get lost. But it wasn't Peter.

6. Ricky

Ricky smiled when he saw how shocked Natalie was to see him. "Hi there, old friend!" he said, laughing. "Aren't you pleased to see me?"

"Oh, of course I am! How are you?"

She tried to act naturally, but it wasn't easy. The soft-hearted girl had always felt guilty about the way their careers had diverged, Spice Riot to awards parties and sold-out concerts, Boyz 4 Reel to supermarket openings and day jobs.

"Aren't you going to ask me in for a drink?"

"I'd love to, Ricky, but I need to get ready for the show. I hope to see you afterwards, though!"

"Isn't that nice. But I'd prefer to see you right now," Ricky said, no longer smiling, and pulled a gun from his pocket. "Sit down, and keep quiet," he added, pushing his way into the room and closing the door behind him.

7. Victoria

A bus pulled up outside the stadium, and a young woman got out. It was Victoria, the third and final member of Spice Riot. Despite her beauty - the 26-year-old redhead had flawless pale skin and a stunning figure - none of the other passengers paid her any attention. Dressed in jeans, trainers, an old hoodie, sunglasses and a baseball cap, she was a lot better than Hana at blending in. Why was an international pop star taking the bus? It was a matter of principle. She did not believe in car ownership, and always caught the bus to the band's shows.

Lost in a podcast, Victoria was barely thinking about the concert. She planned to leave the band soon and concentrate on her activism.

8. Peter

More worried than ever about the band being ready on time, Peter knocked nervously on their door and asked how things were going. "I can't answer the door right now," said Natalie in a faint and wobbly little voice, "I'm a little tied up. But don't worry, everything is fine."

Peter reluctantly accepted this and walked away.

9. Hana

Hana passed Peter in the corridor and managed not to be spotted; she knew she was running late and didn't want to be told off. She reached the dressing room, slipped inside and closed the door behind herself. She turned... and almost cried out with shock.

Her pretty bandmate Natalie was bound tightly to her chair. She was squirming and wriggling helplessly, and trying desperately, but in vain, to communicate with Hana through a white cloth gag, her eyes wide and terrified.

For an odd moment Hana found herself fascinated by the details of Natalie's stringent bondage. Her shapely legs had been tied tightly together at ankle, knee and thigh, with the ankles further secured to the base of the chair so she couldn't kick out. Her chest was wrapped with cord above and below her breasts, while rope had been tied around her waist and used to anchor her into the seat. A further rope descended from the waist bindings and disappeared downwards between Natalie's thighs, and Hana knew enough about kink practices to guess what this was for. And the damsel's arms, Hana saw finally, had been roped securely behind her back, hands facing each other palm to palm, wrists wrapped with six or seven cinched loops of thin cord. Her elbows were bound tightly together too, which forced the poor girl into an uncomfortable and humiliating posture with her chest thrust forward flirtatiously, as if she was offering herself up.

And this was the strangest detail of all: poor Natalie's breasts were especially prominent because someone had changed her outfit. Gone was the dignified tuxedo; in its place was an old-fashioned babydoll nightie in sheer green silk, cut high at the leg (a matching pair of green silk panties were clearly visible) and with a plunging neckline that showed off ample creamy cleavage.

Objectifying, demeaning and humiliating, it was perhaps the least feminist outfit anyone had ever been forced to wear.

"What the hell happened?" Hana gasped.

10. Natalie

Natalie struggled furiously against her bonds, trying desperately to warn Hana that Ricky was standing behind her, to no avail. The ropes were viciously tight, and had been tied with great care and skill; the knotted cleave gag was thoroughly silencing, preventing any comment beyond a plaintive "Mmmpphh!" It was incredibly frustrating.

Ricky stepped forward and quietly announced his presence to Hana, putting one finger to his lips to command silence and waving a gun to demand obedience. Waving a

fake

gun, Natalie thought to herself... she had noticed this moments too late, just as resistance and escape had become equally impossible, the tight constricting ropes and humiliating gag transforming her into a decorative damsel in distress. "Mmppppphh!" she mewled at Hana. The gun's not real! But Hana couldn't understand a word she was saying, and had other things to think about.

11. Ricky

Ricky was having the time of his life, ordering around his former rivals and scaring them with his big, admittedly fake, gun. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this good, or this powerful.

While Natalie squeaked and mmmphed rather adorably, he ordered Hana to turn around so her could gag her firmly: he used a large shiny black ballgag that silenced her very effectively, shoving it deep in her mouth and fastening the strap as tight as he could while she moaned softly. "Try and call for rescue, I dare you," he told her laughing, giving her a chauvinistic smack on the ass as encouragement: Hana blushed and did her best to alert security but found her voice stifled to an inaudible mewl, accompanied by an embarrassing quantity of drool.

Delighted by this bonus humiliation, and now far less worried about anyone hearing what was going on, Ricky ordered Hana to take off her skirt and top, which she did reluctantly but obediently, and handed her another improbably skimpy babydoll nightie to put on, this time in red silk. "This is your new costume," he said, smiling. "And I think it will suit you far better than those silly outfits the three of you usually wear on stage. Pretty girls should show themselves off, not hide away under manly clothes."

Blushing more than ever, Hana began to put on the demeaning garment.

12. Victoria

Realising there wasn't much time left before the start of the concert, Victoria wondered if she should hurry, or maybe even run. She wasn't sure she could be bothered. Besides, the dressing room was just around the next corner: she had enough time. In any case, the fans wouldn't mind waiting.

And there were more important things to do! She had spotted Peter, and needed to speak to him. Ignoring the poor man's look of anxiety she launched into a long-winded discussion of his male privilege, and how he could properly make amends for it. She then produced a reading list of books about intersectional feminism and pressed it into his hand.

"These will make everything clear," she said seriously.

Peter tried to look interested, and managed not to express his concerns about her timekeeping; Victoria did not respond well to criticism.

13. Hana

Hana was now fully dressed in the embarrassing, girlish red nightie, which had been accompanied by matching panties and high heels. The skimpy outfit showed off her cleavage, her long legs and her pert ass to great advantage: the whole effect was something like a 1950s pinup, or the kind of politically incorrect Barbie doll they wouldn't be allowed to sell any more. It was intensely humiliating to be objectified like this, dressed up like a man's old-fashioned fantasy of what a girl should look like, and was even worse because she had been rendered silent, utterly unable to object to her treatment or make any comment whatsoever, by the huge ballgag filling her mouth. Yet it was all oddly... liberating at the same time, Hana realised with a shock. Being a strident political icon could be exhausting at times, and part of her had missed getting to act like a pretty bimbo, being looked after and told what to do. But no! That was no way for a feminist to think...

This confusing train of thought was interrupted by more soft mewling, and she wondered why Natalie was mmmpphing so desperately, if ineffectively. "She must be trying to tell me something," she thought. "But I don't see what. I know we're in danger, Nat! There's a maniac waving a gun in my face!"

Afraid of the gun, Hana decided not to put up any resistance when Ricky approached with several coils of strong thin cord, and allowed herself to be quickly and efficiently bound hand and foot. Ricky began with her wrists, lashed tightly together behind her back, the cords yanked and cinched until they cut painfully into her soft skin. Unlike Natalie, whose hands were tied in a relatively comfortable position behind her ass, poor Hana had her wrists crossed

upwards

so they were behind her neck, fingers pointed to the ceiling and shoulders twisted into an agonising posture. It was fortunate she was so supple from regular yoga sessions, but even she found this position difficult to achieve. He wrapped her chest with more rope, looping it snugly above and below her breasts; between the framing chest ties and the change in posture enforced by her painfully bound arms Hana's bosom was now firmly on display for all to enjoy. Ricky was enjoying the sight, at any rate. To make sure she maintained this pleasing posture he ran a cord around the back of Hana's neck and in front of each shoulder, then connected it to the rest of the chest harness. This made the perfect anchoring point for her bound wrists, which were now immovable against the nape of her neck.

With arms and chest secure, Ricky moved on to the lower half of his prisoner - for a prisoner she certainly was by this point, there was no doubt about that. Poor Hana received her own crotch rope, anchored to a cord about her waist in front and behind, complete with a fat knot calculated to slip inside her and create friction at the worst (or best) possible place. Ricky then bound her legs securely together at ankle, knee and thigh, removing any possibility of escape with the practised ease of a cowboy roping up a disobedient filly. She could barely stand, let alone run away.

"There, that should hold you!" Ricky said, laughing as Hana tested her bonds, squirming and straining and wriggling. He was quite right; she was utterly helpless. But she remained defiant, glaring at the former boyband member and refusing to sit down to be attached to her chair.

Ricky had expected this. He produced a set of strong belts from his bag, and set to work reinforcing her bonds. Each rope binding gained a matching leather strap secured over the top, cinched to the tightest possible hole: that made eight belts in all, any one of them more than capable of resisting a slender young lady's best attempts at escape. Compressed and constricted, the poor girl was soon squeaking with discomfort... but she wasn't yet ready to submit.

14. Natalie

Seeing her friend's defiance, watching her put up far more resistance than she herself had offered, Natalie found a new emotion creeping in with the fear and humiliation: she was enormously proud of her brave friend. Hana thought the gun was real, and knew Ricky was bigger and stronger than her, but was still doing her best to defy him.

But this thought was accompanied by yet another. How shamefully she herself had behaved by comparison, submitting to captivity so quickly and easily. Am I a natural damsel in distress, she wondered. Did I

want

to be captured?

15. Ricky

Ricky was mystified by Hana's unwillingness to co-operate; after all, he had a gun! Natalie had done exactly what she was told, so why wasn't her friend doing the same? She was disrespecting him, he decided.

Annoyed, Ricky had another look in his bag, and fished out a large roll of duct tape. "You've made me do this," he said. "If you were obedient, it wouldn't be necessary." Silly wench, he thought. She's going to make me late.

Working quickly he wrapped the silver tape tightly over the rope and straps around Hana's wrists, chest, waist, thighs, knees and ankles, then applied a layer of tape over her ball gag for good measure. Finally he smacked her on the ass. "I hope you're quite finished acting out," he said severely. "You're going to do what you're told from now on."

"Okay, okay," she said, or tried to say. "Mmmkkmmphh, Mmmkkmmphh!" She sat down obediently, trying to ignore the strange and almost intolerable pleasure it gave her to submit.

16. Hana

Hana was going through some confusing feelings. She thought about the pain of the cord, and the bite of the straps, and now the extreme constricting tightness added by the tape, and found she quite... liked the experience? Being a defeated and powerless hostage, objectified by her humiliating outfit, put in her place by a sexist man and treated like property... it should have been insufferable, but she was more turned on right now than she could ever remember.

Ricky, that silly failure of a man she had always pitied, was being very dominant in his treatment of her, and he struck her as oddly attractive in a way she had never previously considered. What a strong and masterful man he is, she thought.

17. Victoria

Victoria finally let Peter go on his way and opened the door of the dressing room, still calling out over her shoulder the names of feminist authors he absolutely must check out. But what she saw inside the room rendered her instantly and uncharacteristically silent. If Peter noticed the sudden quiet, he must have been too relieved to investigate.