Author's note: I'll admit, I'm not a huge fan of metal or the Butcher Babies. Actually, I hadn't heard of them before a week or so ago, but the short version is this: they're a metal band led by two women who (used to) perform wearing nothing but electrical tape on their nipples. They don't do it so much now, as I understand it, but you can still find plenty of images and video of when they did, and they're pretty freaking hot.
That being said, I don't know much about metal, but I always wanted to write a story about hard rock chicks doing dirty stuff during a live performance, and Butcher Babies seemed like a good place to start from and run with. I know, the Plasmatics did it first, and Rockbitch did something similar, but Butcher Babies is more current for my tastes, so there you go.
On a final note, I wanted to ask: are people not enjoying my stories as they used to? My last couple of submissions haven't rated as high or with as many comments as I'd hoped, and I'm wondering if it's cause I didn't throw in more extreme stuff. This story does have some watersports in it, but it's not a huge section and can be skimmed over (it's towards the end), and the last couple of stories didn't call for it. I know I've got a rep for writing extreme stories, but I do also want to write what I feel like, even if it doesn't reach so far into depravity. There's only so many times I can ring the same bells in one go.
Anyway, please let me know what you think. I write better with feedback, and am more likely to keep submitting if you do.
*
It was just two weeks after the female-fronted metal band Butcher Babies ended their nationwide tour opening for Marilyn Manson. The tour had been a huge success—on the surface, at least. True, most of the venues had had either sold out or come very close to the mark, but partway into the tour it became obvious that most of the concert-goers were there to see the famed Manson moreso than the Butcher Babies. Though they had gained notoriety and a loyal following of fans due in part to their music and in part to their near-naked live performances when they were first starting out, their popularity had begun to wane over the past few months when they signed on to a record label and stopped performing in just fishnet stockings, studded leather panties, and electrical tape over their nipples. The change hadn't been a voluntary decision by the band, but rather "persuaded" to it by the record label. Though they had accepted to change their performance delivery, they weren't happy about it, and clearly their fans weren't either.
This was how Carla Harvey and Heidi Shepherd, the two lead vocalists for the band, found themselves sitting in their manager Dave Aguilera's office in a long discussion on trying to figure out how to get their audience back, and even increase it tenfold. The rest of the band was in a practice session, held elsewhere so the din of the instruments wouldn't disturb them. The guys knew that what and how the band chose to promote themselves relied solely on the ladies and so left them to it, waiting to hear from them when a plan was made.
"This fucking sucks," Carla was saying, taking a drag from her cigarette and blowing the smoke through her nose. "We finally get a record deal, go on tour with Marilyn fucking Manson, and now everybody's jumping ship because we won't show our tits onstage? I mean, what the fuck?"
"Well, okay, not everybody's leaving," Heidi amended. "But still, we definitely aren't getting as many people as we used to, or could be. The last few shows people were coming in the door just as we were finishing our set, so they definitely weren't into us."
"At least that's better than half the people who WERE there and saw us from the top," Carla countered. "Some of them were booing us so loudly I could hear them over Hank's guitar and Chris's drums. And did you see the arguments they were getting into with the people that were cheering for us? I thought a riot was going to break out a couple of times."
"I thought once we got a record label and went on tour as an opener we'd get more of a draw," Heidi said to Dave, who had been listening patiently to their grievances about their situation.
"Trust me, it's not anything you're doing that's keeping that from happening," Dave said supportively. "You girls and the guys have been great up there. Honestly, though, I think it's something you're not doing." At the girls' bemused expressions, he pulled up a webpage on his iPad and read the following: "'When girls are perceived as sexual or outspoken, they get labeled sluts, but we embrace those qualities and bring them to our music as well. Butcher Babies is true slut metal: We're doing what we want, how we want.' Those were your words, Heidi."
"I know that," Heidi said, rolling her eyes. "But I said that a long while ago, when we were just starting. And the record label told us they didn't want us doing that kind of performance anymore, remember?"
"Of course I do," Dave said, nodding. "But think about it. When you guys first came out, you were over-the-top and balls-to-the-wall with how you expressed yourselves. You made a name for yourselves as being 'slut metal,' and you stuck by it. Really, you two set the bar high for yourselves—and now you're not meeting that expectation anymore. People want to see you bare it and tear it, and even though you've got the tearing part of it down, you're not giving them everything they're paying for."
"Well, hell, it's not like we asked to change our style," Carla groused. "We were perfectly happy doing what we were doing. It was working for us...and we really were sticking up for ourselves and who we wanted to be." Heidi nodded in agreement.
"And that's the other part of it," Dave said. "You guys aren't happy with how the label is jerking you around with this, either. You aren't doing what you want or how you want it."
"So what, you think we should just quit with the label?" Heidi asked skeptically.
"Not at all." Dave shook his head. "You guys only signed on in the last year, bailing out like this so soon would definitely put a stain on your reputation to other labels if you wanted to sign with them. No, I think you guys should stick with the label...BUT, also go back to how you want to perform and promote yourselves."
"No way, they'd give us the boot as soon as they heard about it!" Carla protested.
"Not if you can prove that your way works out for them, both financially and in branding," Dave said. "Look, you guys used to turn it up to eleven with your shows, with the nipple tape and the blood and all of that. You loved it, the fans loved it, it was win-win. I'm saying, what you need to do is go back out there and crank it up past eleven. Really show the people what it means to be 'slut metal.' And I've got a few suggestions on how to do it, if you're interested."
