From Obscurity To Slavery

Takhisis

Perhaps unfairly dismissed as a novelty, this band played a striking form of gothic country rock, and earned a respectable following without ever quite breaking into the mainstream, and eventually split after being dropped by a record label who had heavily promoted them in pursuit of said missing mainstream crossover. The heavily gothic image appears to have estranged the country audience, and the rootsy elements did not endear them to the goths, leaving the band trapped between two stools and ultimately unsuccessful. Both elements might have found the band's name, drawn from an evil Goddess in a role playing game, a little too metal as well.

The band's first mini album, Chromatic Dragon staked out their territory from the off. A mix of country standards and originals, the sound was dominated by Rhiannon Steele's strong voice and Nimue Ravensong's violin playing drones akin to an acoustic shoe-gazer guitar. The was a cover of the Grateful Dead's Box Of Rain which impressed many, but taken as a whole the rest of the album sounded like generic noughties Americana with a few gothic flourishes thrown in. The appalling cover art, showing the band posing in fetish gear in a dungeon full of badly sculpted fake torture victims who looked like they'd been stolen from the set of a low budget '80s zombie film, impressed nobody.

The album did impress Maverick enough to sign the band and Stanguary appeared the following year. This showed a rockier sound, with more amplification, and goth's traditional phasing and flanging effects all over the string instruments. Steele's voice had improved immensely, sounding warmer and less forced, and the songwriting was also improved. However, the more conventionally rocky sound drew less attention than the earlier record, and despite a heavy push on the two singles, the album bombed.

The band's final bow, Coprophilliac's Anonymous, emerged after two years of negotiations with the record company. Rumours of suppressed album sleeves and an unreleased video for a planned single persist, but remain unproven. With lead guitarist Jerome Bakshi having left to join the British drone rock band Stone Machine, the band reverted to a largely acoustic sound, and performed a barnstorming set of countrified covers of classic and alt rock songs, to surprisingly impressive effect. The approach particularly suited the one single released from the album, a cover of Husker Du's "Diane" which may well be the band's finest hour but never had a hope in hell of charting.

Following the band's dissolution, both Steele and Ravensong went into folk oriented bands, Steele forming Skystone with former Takhisis utility player Ross Swithin and an even more kinky image, and Ravensong joining former Iron and Wine members in The Mugwumps, a much more conventional looking freak folk revivalist outfit. Nothing further has been heard from any of the other members.

Chromatic Dragon **

Stanguary **

Coprophilliac's Anonymous **

The audition was surprisingly thorough. I'd schlepped out to Essex with my bass, expecting to be told to play through a song parrot fashion, and was surprised by the absence of any musicians when I arrived. In fact, I didn't speak to anybody in person until I was offered the job.

The address turned out to be a smallish unit on an industrial estate. None of the other units looked like they were being used. I parked, found the door and used the four digit number I'd been texted to open it. Once inside, I found myself in what would have been a fairly impressive home studio on one side of a screen wall with an intercom mounted over it. There was a webcam next to the intercom. Somebody liked their privacy.

I also found a music stand set up next to an amplifier, a two seater leatherette sofa for those who'd prefer to play siting down, and a number of acoustic instruments on stands. The couple of acoustic guitars were expensive models, but I couldn't hazard a guess about the banjo, mandolin, lute or bouzuki. I wondered how many people had fallen at the sheet music hurdle, as a lot of rock musicians don't read music, and even folk and jazz musicians can have problems with that.

The intercom buzzed. "Hi," a voice said. Male, REP English, soft. There was a hint of distortion on it from the intercom, but that might have been deliberate. "I hope you don't mind getting straight to it. Could you play through that piece on the stand, please?" I plugged my Mustang into the amplifier and did so. It wasn't a particularly tricky line, and looked suspiciously like the root notes to a set of chord changes. "Great," the voice said. "Your resume mentions that you were the lead guitarist in the Moonfish. Think you can handle the piece on the next page on an acoustic?"

I looked at the next page on the stand and tried not to smirk as I realised I'd been right about the root notes. There were some rather fancy fills and riffs mixed in around the chords. "I think so," I said.

"Great. Let's hear you take a stab at it. Use the Washburn and don't bother plugging it in." The Washburn was one of the thin bodied electro acoustics. I picked it up, adjusted the strap and started playing. On an acoustic, the tune was quite folky sounding, Roy Harper or John Martyn rather than the drone drone drone whine whine whine approach idiots who thought Devandra Banhart was a role model were into at the moment. Something duller would have been easier to play, but I hit all the notes. and hoped that I'd proved I could read music.

"Could you try again, but play around the tune a bit?"

"You mean try my own riffs and fills around the chord changes and root notes?" I asked.

"Yes, please."

"I'll give it a go," I said, and did. The chord changes were pretty basic. I arpegiated the chords instead of strumming them, inverted one riff and spread another into two separate fills, ignored the rest and filled in the gaps with other stuff. There was a longer pause when I finished this time, but I didn't think I'd disgraced myself.

"I think that'll do for now," the voice said through the intercom. I might be flattering myself, but they sounded a little impressed. "You play bass rather than guitar when you can do that because it's easier to find a gig?"

A perceptive question. "Partly," I said. I didn't mention that they'd advertised for a bassist. Maybe the advert for a bassist was some sort of elaborate double bluff. A lot of bassists are frustrated lead guitarists, after all.

"Do you play anything else?"

"Rudimentary keyboards," I said. "I played violin at school but haven't touched one since. I'm not bad on the harmonica, but hard as it may be to credit, there isn't much call for that in goth or hard rock bands."

"No other strings, then?"

"No, I don't play the banjo, the mandolin or any other rootsy instruments," I said.

"Hardly anybody does," the voice said. "Still, a guitarist will do for now. Why don't you come through and have a chat about the gig?"

"Be happy to," I said. I put the Washburn back on its stand, turned off the amplifier, and opened the door in the screen wall. Rather than turning around running the other way when I saw what was in there, I skipped a beat while I told myself I needed the money, and this was a band on the way up.

It's easy to be wise with hindsight. A goth type band advertising for a bassist but actually wanting an acoustic guitarist and with a load of acoustic folk instruments in the audition space should have suggested Skystone, but nothing had been said about Ross Swithin leaving the band yet.

Skystone had a kinky image. It was always assumed, if anybody even bothered to think about it, that this was a put on act for the stage, and they wouldn't bother with that at other times. The spectacle that confronted me as I walked into the space they were holding the auditions from gave a lie to that.

Two members of Skystone were sitting in the room. It was easy to tell which of them was in charge: she was the one sitting in the armchair. The guy I'd been talking to was kneeling at her feet with the intercom control in front of him, and a mixer that the amplifier next door and the microphones I hadn't spotted were hooked up to. He had a laptop as well. There was a MacBook on a side table next to the armchair, but that wasn't switched on.

It's perhaps a bit unfair to say that they weren't dressed down a little. Rhiannon Steel's hair was pulled back into the sort of ponytail that reminds you just how long a horse's tail really is with a not very fancy rubber bunji, and she was wearing spectacles rather than the contact lenses she always wore on stage and in public, and I hadn't known that she needed. Apart from her glossy black nail polish, she didn't seem to be wearing any makeup. That was as far as the dressing down went: she wore a black PVC corset dress with a puffball skirt that went to mid thigh, Stevie Nicks platform calf-boots and sheer stockings or tights. She even had little fishnet gloves on her hands, with frills around the wrists. Maybe that was why she wasn't using her laptop. it wasn't the full-blown Dominatrix getups she wore on stage and on record covers and interviews, but it was pretty fancy for day wear.

Her accomplice was a lot kinkier looking on this occasion. A black and pink zebra print t shirt was the most conventional thing he was wearing. Some sort of metal jockstrap or was hooked to a chain around his waist, and he wore pink woollen leg warmers, that I later found out had soft pads over the knees. His hair was pink as well, dyed the same shade as his Mistress' and cut into a short wedge with the sides shaved up over his ears. he wore one of the loose metal slave collars that's like a big ring around his neck, and padlocked metal manacles on his wrists and ankles. He did wear makeup, very gothy looking white foundation, deep red lips, and more pink on his fingernails and eyelids.

Taking all this in was where I skipped a beat. I have an idea that my expression might have betrayed me. Certainly a smile flitted across the singer's poker-face as I tried to pull myself together. She waited for a second to make sure I was properly unnerved, and then threw me a lifeline.

"Come in and take a seat," she said. There was another smallish sofa facing her armchair. I sank into it and told myself they were just messing with my head. At least I'd made an effort to dress up a bit, even if a black and white polka dot shirt, black drainpipe chinos and suede chelsea boots were a lot less fancy than her own get up, at least I hadn't turned up in jeans t shirt and trainers. That never went down well with goth bands.

"Thank you," I said. "Hello. Can I ask what the situation is?"

Rhiannon Steele smiled and gestured. "As you can see," she said, "I'm a slave down, and I need a replacement. You might be the boy, if you're interested."

It didn't escape my notice that she said "slave" rather than "musician". Skystone were pretty much a goth version of Peter Paul and Mary with a kinky image. It looked like that wasn't purely a put on image, unless they were living up to it to give potential new members a taste of how they handled the media.

"I'm not sure about the couple of ah.."

"Slaves," she prompted helpfully. I was beginning to see why she'd had her slave do all the talking during the musical part of the audition. She'd moved to Los Angeles from some backwater in Texas to form Takhisis, and she had the accent to prove it. Not quite a shit kicking "yeehaw ya'll" that would have suited a more traditional country rock band, but definitely southern enough to define her honeyed purr of a speaking voice and stop it from sounding sickly sweet or bimboish. her accent gave her voice an edge. Just that one word was a tease and a promise and a challenge.

"Slaves in the band," I said. "Were the folk instruments out there because the one you've lost is the multi instrumentalist? The play anything guy who was in Takhisis with you?"

"Very sharp," she said. "And quite right. Rose has run away with another Mistress. Tulip can handle most of the fancy stuff in the arrangements but you will need to get to grips with the more esoteric instruments yourself as well. If you become my slave."

"I'm not sure it's learning a few instruments that's worrying me," I said. That earned me another of her smiles.

"It shouldn't. Tulip picked up the banjo and the mandolin very quickly indeed, didn't you slave?"

"Yes, Mistress," Tulip said. I had the Skystone CD somewhere but hadn't listened to it much, and I wasn't sure if any of the band used their real names on the sleevenotes. The fact that there was a lot of text there, all in elaborate calligraphy that made it hard to read had put me off a little. Mistress Rhiannon, or whatever title she preferred, had gone quite the other way from the album designs for Takhisis.

"As for the other," she said, "that isn't negotiable. You were thinking the whole S&M thing was just for show?"

"Yes," I said. "I was. To be honest, Miz Steele," (she seemed to like that) "I think everybody did."

"Well, not everybody," she said. "Some people could pick up on the hints. You seem pretty vanilla, though, so I could understand you missing them. If you join my band you will be my slave. You will do everything I say without question. You will sign legal documents that make slave contracts look like the ridiculous role-playing nonsense they are. After all of the aggravation I had in Takhisis with members who thought they were more important than me, that's the only way I'm willing to work."

"I understand," I said.

"Good. There's no need for a snap decision, and you haven't been offered the job yet anyway. Depending on who else these auditions turn up, you might not be in the running anyway. It's only fair to warn you about that."

It was, and I appreciated that. I'd had a couple of auditions fall through because a bigger name suddenly decided that the band I thought had a place for me wasn't beneath their dignity after all.

"Anyway, enough of that. Are you interested enough to finish the audition?"

I wasn't entirely sure of that, but I didn't say I wasn't and walk out. "Of course," I said.

"This sort of folk trio is all about arrangements. Do you have a home studio? A portastudio will do."

"Of course," I said again.

"Great. What I'd like you to do, then, is pick a couple of songs from the first two Takhisis records and arrange them for two acoustic guitars and voice. Think you're up to that?"

"I'll give it a go," I said.

"Thank you," Rhiannon Steele said. Her slave reached for the laptop and typed away at something I couldn't see.

"Okay," she said when he'd finished. "You've just been emailed the contact details. Send the demos however you want. We're auditioning all week, so you have until Monday to get it done. Think you can manage that?"

"I think so," I said. "Are you sure there isn't a specific format you'd prefer?" Email would be faster than sending a physical copy, though I could probably get this done over the course of a single evening anyway.

"I much prefer WAV files to MP3s. Now, are you ready for one last test before you go? You might find this one a bit more difficult."

"Shoot," I said.

"Just a quick test to see how flexible you are. Anybody who can't cope with this will be useless as a slave, I'm afraid. Don't worry though, it's a big step to take, but it's easily taken." She reached down and petted her slave's head, then snapped her fingers in front of his nose. He went down on all fours and kissed the toes of her boots. "Stand," she said to Tulip, who rose to his feet. Then she turned back to me. My nerves were screaming.

"You can stand up as well. What I want you to do, to prove that you have some potential, is kiss Tulip. French kiss and make out until I tell you to stop. Think you can manage that?"

"I'll try," I said. Rhianon Steele smiled.

"There is no try," she said. "He's over there. Go for it or get out and don't bother sending me any demos. And get naked first. I'm afraid sexual harassment is a way of life in my workplace, and I want to see what's on offer."

That was my first real step into the abyss. Up until then, I could have walked away, but afterwards, any excuses I could have found not to go all the way would have sounded incredibly false. After doing this, everything afterwards felt simple and straightforwards.

Standing, Tulip was displayed better. I saw that his toenails were painted the same dark pink as his fingernails, eyelids and hair. He had, I had to admit, a better body than I did, which made undressing in front of his Mistress even more uncomfortable. I stripped as quickly s I could, then stepped forwards quickly, hoping it didn't look like I was rushing to get into a clinch to hide my penis from view. The metal cup over his crotch dug into my groin as we kissed. I was sure he'd give a full report to his Mistress afterwards, so I sliped my tongue into his mouth first. He didn't resist and I felt his hands cup my buttocks, pulling me closer. His breath was probably better than mine as well, but at least I'd brushed my teeth before heading out. I stopped worrying about touching him and slipped an arm around his waist and kised him harder. I was horrified to feel my dick stiffen a little pressed againsthis chastity device, which I could now see was fasted in place with padlocks and had another underneath. I told myself it was because I was being ordered around by a beautiful Dominatrix with an incredibly sexy voice not because I was making out with another guy.

"Okay," Rhianon Steele said at last. "You can stop now. See how easy that was?" Tulip and I broke contact, and both took a step backwards. Rhiannon snapped her fingers and Tulip rushed over to kiss her feet while she examined me. I felt a little ashamed that I'd got at least semi erect while making out with her slave, but she didn't say anything about that as her eyes swept over me. Maybe, I thought, she liked that French kissing and cuddling her slave had given me a semi. I wasn't at all sure how I felt about that myself.

"You definitely have some potential," she said at last. "So long as that's there, everything else is just a matter of training. Turn around. Not bad at all. Get rid of that nasty body hair, tighten you up with some exercise and you might look pretty good. Okay, you can get dressed now."

I wondered if I should bow or something. Instead, I got back into my clothes nearly as fast as I had stripped off.

"One thing you should remember if you want to be a slave," she said, "is that when you're told to get naked, you take your watch off as well."

"Sorry," I said.

"Don't worry about it. At least you didn't start calling me Mistress without permission and start begging to kiss my feet as soon as you saw my slave doing that. That's one of the perks of his lifestyle." She unziped that smile again. "I think we're done for today. Nice meeting you, Mr Isabele."

"Likewise, Mz Steele," I said. "Goodbye."

Congratulations. You have made the shortlist for my new slave. Fill out and return the purity test and non disclosure agrrment as quickly as possible. I want you to read the books and the slave's account carefully. I should not have to tell you that entering my service will not be a kinky game with safe words. You will be trained to total obedience if I accept you as my slave, and become my property as completely as possible. All songwriting, arrangement and performance rights and royalties for Skystone or any future projects I involve you in will be signed over to me. While my slave you will own nothing and receive no money. You will, however, be looked after. You will be provided room and board and whatever expenses I see fit, and a fund will be set up against your release from my service. I will modify your mind and body however I see fit. You will, I'm sure, find the experience traumatic, frightening and degrading. That doesn't matter. If you wish to join Skystone you must become my slave and learn obedience.