Author's note: I could have written this with a more serious tone, but where's the fun in that?
This took me about five hours, with breaks for coffee and a bit of pornography.
Nothing about this story is meant to be taken seriously, least of all the theology.
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Oh, fuck, yeah, time to try and pull the band!
I didn't really know the band. I don't think many people did, really. But I had heard they had a reputation for inviting groupies backstage and piling on the champagne, and they played a pretty decent hardcore Satan-metal rock, so why the fuck not?
I had my shiniest nipple rings, no bra, generic demonic grey T-shirt one size too small, my best black panties and the shortest skirt I had. I decided to go girlie, so black sneakers and knee-high socks rounded it out.
I just had to score me a rocker. Didn't matter if it was the drummer, if he was good with his cock.
I got in, dodged the usual greasy types and grabbed a beer, then angled straight for the front of the mosh pit. I would be moved by superior force, and nothing else.
They were the support act, so people were still coming in. I had heard the main act, but didn't like them much and didn't rate my chances of getting laid by the band.
Plus, if I scored with the support act, we'd have longer to party.
I kept a careful eye on the competition, but it looked like all the other girls were either attached or waiting for the main act. More for me, then.
Then they came on stage.
What. The. Fuck.
I found myself staring, stunned. Everyone did. The music went through my groin without bothering to use my ears first. I wanted to dance, to scream that I loved them, to rip my clothes off and throw my naked body at their feet and beg them to whip me.
Who the fuck were these guys?
Suddenly, I had competition.
Fuck THAT!
I elbowed another girl aside as she imploringly shoved herself towards the stage, gave my most piercing wolf-whistle and, jumping up, jerked my T-shirt above my breasts.
Before I landed, an arm snaked around me from behind, grabbed the shirt to prevent me pulling it back down over my left tit, and the most sexual voice I've ever heard from a woman said in my ear "You want to go backstage and meet them?"
She said she was their manager, and she was so hot even the women were ogling her as she lead me by the hand towards the No Entry door. I mean, she was taller than me, had fantastic legs right up to her armpits, a dress that barely covered her arse and left her huge breasts pretty much out, and just looking at her face made even me feel a bit like turning.
The bouncer let us straight through, so I guess she was legit.
She left me in a dressing room, gave me a beer, and told me she'd be right back.
I wondered if I should strip before the band came backstage.
Two minutes later, the manager returned with another girl in tow, and left her with me, saying she'd be back soon. Ah, fuckit. I was hoping I'd get them to myself in a great big orgy with me at the centre of it.
The new girl was metal goth, with tons of makeup, fishnet shirt over a black bra and tattered short skirt not much longer than mine, huge leather boots with massive soles and metal toe caps and heels, and torn fishnet stockings and a couple of piercings. We could have been friends, if we'd met anywhere else. She was also staring at me like she wanted to eat me, in the good way.
I opened my mouth to tell her I didn't swing that way, when she said "Want to fuck? I want to lick you 'til you cream my chin."
I left my mouth open for a minute, then thought well, why not?
I slid forward on the couch and hiked my panties down my legs. "Come on, then," I offered.
She just about attacked me, grabbing my thighs as she shoved her face in my crotch. I felt so turned on I shoved my crotch back at her when she pushed her tongue straight inside me. Oh, fuck, she had a piercing!
When she slid up to my clit and started licking it, the piercing flicked against me with every lash of her tongue.
"Oh, fuck me harder, bitch!" I gasped out. That seemed to encourage her, so I said it again. "Fuck me harder, BITCH!"
The door opened, and I only cared about that because it might mean the band was back. Instead, the manager swung in and out on those breath-taking legs, leaving us with a punk girl who had even more piercings, a tattered T-shirt over no bra, and ripped jeans.
Her eyes lit up. "Hot fucking damn!" she said. "Can I join in?"
I yanked my shirt above my breasts.
"Suck on these!" I said.
She just about poked my eye out on her hair when she latched onto one nipple. Her tongue piercing got caught on my ring, and first she tried to pull it off, then she tried to shake it off, and I wasn't helping because she was pulling my nipple about so much all I could do was claw at the couch and scream something about needing to be fucked until my cunt exploded.
When she finally got her piercing free, the snap of my nipple springing loose made me cum and I screamed a lot more.
Goth came up from between my legs, and fuck me if I hadn't actually creamed on her chin. I didn't know I could cum.
Punk latched onto her chin, sucking hard while they groped at each other's breasts. All I could reach was punk's crotch, so I grabbed that.
The door opened again.
This time, she just looked like your basic rock chick. She had short black hair, baggy jeans and a black singlet. She didn't have a bra either.
A grin split her face. "Whose turn is it next?" she asked.
Punk and goth pounced on her, bearing her to the floor.
"Yours," goth said, squatting on her, then kissed her. They tried to suck each other's face off while punk worked her jeans and panties down and jammed two fingers straight into her. She squealed into goth's mouth, lifting her hips into punk, who forced a third finger in, grabbed her around the waist to keep her hips off the floor, and started fucking her like she was pounding steak.
Goth retrieved her tongue, slid forwards and positioned her hips over rock chick's mouth. "Lick me like you mean it, cum-dumpster!" she said.
The way goth started moving, it was like she was sitting on a sybian. I kicked my panties off - no way I was going to be needing them any more - and crawled towards them. I wanted to get goth's bra off and find out how sensitive her nipples were.
Then the door opened again. "Hot damn, horny sluts delivered!"
This time, it was the band.
They had wild looks in their eyes, like the playing hadn't tired them, it had just psyched them up so much they were ready to beat up an off-duty army barracks and then fuck an entire porn studio senseless.
I launched myself at the singer, wanting to rip his clothes off and suck all the sweat off his nipples. Punk kept on banging away at the new girl, but she was grinning madly at the band. Goth barely even noticed.
The singer grabbed my hair at the back of my head, yanking me away from him so he could grab my tit and squeeze it so hard tears sprang into my eyes.
"Ever been a pinata?" He asked as I tried to grind my hips against his. "That's where I chain you to the ceiling and slap you about a bit before drilling you until you scream my name."
"Are you going to whip me, too?" I gasped out.
The rest of the band walked past us. I heard flies being unzipped, and one of them said. "Get those mouths busy, sluts."
There were two lots of eager wet slurping as one of the boys said "Make her good and tender for me, bitch."
From the corner of my eye I saw the manager sit on the edge of a table and cross her endless legs, an amused look on her face, as the singer said "Yeah, I might just fucking do that instead of slapping these juicy tits."
He put his hand around my throat and walked me backwards to the centre of the room. Suddenly, the manager had materialised behind me and I heard a clank of chains before her hands closed fur-lined manacles around my wrists and then jerked me upwards until I was on tiptoe.
When she let go I was hanging, not quite able to stand properly.
The singer ripped his T-shirt off, showing an absolutely ripped torso I wanted to suck dry of all his sweat.
He opened a case and pulled out a leather flogger with a fat dildo for a handle.
"You want some of this, whore?" he asked, running it through his hands.
I licked my lips, staring at it. "Whip me red, if you've got the balls."
His lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl and he lashed me hard across the breasts. I shrieked, half in pain and half with the fierce joy of it, and he lashed me again, searing pain from my nipples but the throbbing so good I started rubbing my thighs together in a desperate attempt to get off.
He lashed my arse, then my back, then started working up and down my body as I hung and writhed with each impact, slowly turning until I could see Punk on hands and knees getting fucked by the machine-like drummer, goth still sitting on rock chick sucking earnestly, one hand around the bassist's cock and the other around his scrotum, and rock chick underneath her getting pounded by the guitarist, who was holding her legs in the air.
I was aching and burning all over, and nearly exhausted, by the time he said "Fuck, I'm too hard not to fucking bang you like a cheap whore," and grabbed my hips from behind. He must have dropped the flogger.