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Message-ID: <48545asstr$1090404603@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Toran <toran_29@insightbb.com>
User-Agent: NewsPro/3.7.4
NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 20 Jul 2004 23:34:20 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Fallenescence (F/f, BDSM, goth)
Lines: 232
Date: Wed, 21 Jul 2004 06:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblence of the goth band
Fallenescence with any other goth band fronted by lead singer Amy
Lee is purely non-coincidental.  The likelihood of any band doing
what Fallenescence does, at least in post Superbowl XXXVIII
America is highly unlikely.  But this is fiction, as I said.

Any comments are always welcome.  Just throw out the character
between the n and the 2 in my address and you'll get through.

Thanks for reading,
Toran

    Fallenescence
    By Toran 7-20-04
    
    Amy Lay's gaze, black with brooding Goth smudges above and
below incredibly icy blue eyes, locked with Gwendolyn's and Gwen
couldn't look away.  Front row tickets to Fallenescence were
compliments of Gwen's girl friend, Penelope, and though Gwen had
heard of the Goth band, she'd never actually heard them.

    Amy smirked, pointed a finger at Gwen and screamed something
about gagged lips and tears of pain into the microphone as
thousands of Fallenites chanted the words in unison.  The arena
was rocking and Gwen was as caught as caught could be.  Amy's
tight leather pants that had spawned spiked boots paraded the
Queen of Goth around stage as her black leather clad band danced
around her, power chords ripping and rolling over the throngs
that pressed Gwen and Penny tighter to the front of the stage. 
Amy looked back over her shoulder from the far side of the stage
and again pointed at Gwen.  Gwen shuddered - it seemed that the
gothrocker was pointing right at her.  For just a second, Gwen
wondered what those blood red lips tasted like, what Amy's full
and straining breasts felt like as Gwen tussled with a stiff
nipple, whether Amy smelled the same way as she did when things
just felt right, when the urgency suddenly felt needed, when the
world meant only one thing, only one hunger...

    Two sets of strong arms suddenly gripped Gwen's shoulders and
before she knew it, Gwen was being yanked out of the crowd and up
onto the stage.  Spotlights caught her, caressed her in spite of
the cold openness - the pressing screaming throng was below her
now, standing before her was Amy, beautiful Amy.  And in the
pause between lyrics that described the feeling of being eaten
alive, morsel by morsel, Amy leaned in and kissed Gwen with her
pouting, full, blood-red lips and Gwen felt a trickle of heat.

    Then Gwen was briskly rushed to a small podium and a large
feather quill was pressing into her hands, a parchment paper
resting beneath her palms.  Amy was behind her, rubbing the mike
up between Gwen's legs while the band raged on, the
instrumental's pulse mimicked by thousands of screaming faces. 
Spotlights pinned Gwen in place and with Amy's hands helping her,
Gwen signed her name on the blurry line - overhead, on the huge
Maxitron screen, the completion of the waver of dignity was
witnessed by all.

    Amy twirled Gwen around and attacked Gwen's mouth savagely,
drawing blood the color of Amy's lips.  Hands found Gwen's wrists
and while her body exploded with urgent lust, her mind realized
that she was being bound.  Amy's mouth devoured hers, the
instrumental seemed to go on forever, the gothrocker's hands
found Gwen's breasts.  And pinched Gwen's nipples hard.  Gwen
screamed but Amy's mouth smothered the sound - Gwen's nipples
hurt and the ropes that tightly circled her wrists were yanking
her elbows together as well.  Dimly, she was aware that her jeans
were being cut away from her hips and that other roadies were
busy ripping her t-shirt to shreds.

    Her world throbbed with the music and assault on her body -
arms were lost in miles of rope, tied together so tightly that
her breasts stuck out lewdly in front of her, t-shirt cut up and
pressed into her mouth and wrapped behind her head, gagging her,
spotlights catching her pubic bush for all to see.  And that it
was because Amy wanted her that way and that struck something
deep inside Gwen.  Someone wanted her to be helpless, someone
wanted her so badly that they had taken her.  That someone was
the most beautiful creature in Gwen's life.  And that was why
Gwen hardly protested, though protest was far from her capacity,
bound and gagged as she was - that was why Gwen fought not at all
when she was strapped to the heavy wooden horse on center stage.

    The band launched into the heavy handed bass line that was
Fallenescence's current hit, "Whipper Will".  Gwen's breasts were
now bound with thin cord that made her flesh hard and sensitive.
Her nipples had been caught, noosed, and tied off to the single
support onto which she had been folded over - the single wooden
beam pressed between her breasts, the thin line capturing her
nipples passing beneath.  Gwen's legs were roped to one end of
the wooden frame, her shoulders, anchored by the elbow bind,
roped to the other end.  It hurt Gwen badly, so badly that were
Gwen not caught up in the urgency of her body fighting and
clawing for that explosion of searing warmth that could only come
from deep inside, she would have cried into the gag.  Her stomach
seemingly welded to the beam, she glanced sideways out at the
throng as they chanted words that spoke of pain and thin red whip
marks.  Penny looked up at her, smiling, her face distant,
distracted almost, only one set of eyes amongst the thousands of
Fallenites.  It was the hazy look that Gwen had seen on the
countless boyfriends that had pistoned their dicks deep inside
her.  The arena was in a frenzy, ready to explode.

    Amy was behind her, massaging Gwen's ass, now fully exposed
and helpless on the wooden horse.  Loud electronic whipping
noises rolled from the mountain of speakers on either side of the
stage and as Gwen watched, the throngs seemed to pulse with the
sharp electronic crack of whip on flesh.  A cool hand ran up
Gwen's back as Amy pranced into Gwen's vision.  She had shed her
shiny leather top, exposing two full breasts, silver nipple rings
pinching two engorged nipples painted a cherry red.  Amy leaned
forward, close to Gwen's ear, her breath hot and darkly
wonderful.

    "I'm going to hurt you, little cunt.  Hurt you bad."

    Then her teeth sank deeply into Gwen's earlobe.  Gwen
screamed through her gag, the urgency inside her knocked up a
notch.  Amy was going to hurt her, in front of everyone.  Naked
and helpless, before a filled arena, Amy was going to hurt Gwen
badly.

    Amy stepped back, turning towards the throng.  Gwen couldn't
see what she had in her hand, but the arena erupted.  "Whipper
Will" entered the long ominous drum solo and Amy began gyrating
her naked hips in the spotlight, only inches from Gwen's gagged
face.  Gwen could smell Amy's musky, secret smell and had to
close her eyes - the electricity was racing through her but not
nearly fast enough - more was needed, much more.  Amy was turned
on.  It wasn't enough that Amy wanted Gwen to hurt before all of
her fans.  Amy was turned on by Gwen's pain.  Gwen tried to grind
her pelvis into the hard wooden beam but her pussy couldn't get
the right angle to do anything more than fuel the damning
electricity that sparked and bit but never connected, never
delivered the shot that would be white hot, the shot that would
race through her, hungrily feeding on her nerves and flesh.

    Amy turned around and Gwen grunted into her gag.  Amy held a
thin strip in her hand, long, and whippish, of wood or leather
Gwen didn't know.  It would hurt.  Gwen squirmed in her ropes but
felt only the unrelenting bite of the coils around her body and
the hard wood of the frame she was bound to.  She wasn't going
anywhere and Amy wanted to hurt her.  Amy rubbed Gwen's cheek
then grabbed a handful of Gwen's hair, yanking Gwen's head back.
Then she disappeared behind her.  Bound to the beam, head held by
hair pulled by unyielding fingers, Gwen felt the first swing of
Amy's crop as it bit into her ass.  Pain exploded in her ass
flesh, radiating out with a swiftness that took Gwen's breath
away and had her head not been held in place, she would have
likely smashed her forehead into the abrupt end of the wooden
beam on which she was bound.

    The crowd cheered, Amy howled, and fresh line of searing pain
slapped across her flesh.  Gwen tried to scream but the gag
stopped her.  Gwen tried to move but the ropes held her.  Gwen
tried to lift herself off the horse but the thin lines tying her
nipples together beneath the wooden beam kept her in place. 
Another streak of white lightening bit into her followed by
another.  Dimly Gwen realized that the electronic whipping noises
had been replaced by the very real whipping she was receiving. 
Tears blurred her vision and the warmth of urgency was not even
close to where it should be.  Could she survive Amy's pain, could
she finish the race that she had started before the wave of pain
stopped everything and left only a quivering body on overload and
in misery?  Cool fingers stroked her ass and the grip in her hair
loosened.

    Gwen let her head fall forward, her world filled with pain
and a thumping drum beat.  Then softly, as if it had no right to
be there, Amy's voice slid atop the driving drums, gentle and
cooing.  She sang of frustration, of yearning, and of constant
agony and the Fallenites took up the chant, singing their anthem.
 Who guaranteed release, Amy cried, who wanted more than the
blackness of pain and eternal sleep?  Her words, rhyming and
caressing the thump of the drums, lulled the throng to a restless
silence.  Where was the answer, Amy wondered into the mike and
then the drums stopped altogether.

    Amy knelt before Gwen, brushed her hair back away from her
tear stained cheeks.  Softly, she kissed Gwen on her gagged lips.
 The urgency inside Gwen pulsed deeper.  But she knew there would
be no release.  Not now, not ever.  The heavy black smudges
framed steel blue eyes that screamed to her that urgency wasn't
enough, pain wasn't enough.  Nothing was enough.  Amy's fingers
slid along the tight ropes holding Gwen to the horse, over
muscles taut with the unnatural binding.  Looking directly into
Gwen's eyes, Amy sang softly into the mike.  Life was nothing
more than a string of little urgencies fulfilled, she sang.  Pain
that comes and goes, awakening our nerves and flesh.  For what? 
Sleep awaits us all, she answered herself.  Sleep and blackness.
Gwen felt new tears flowing as she looked into the face of her
love.

    The drums swelled into life, the single beam of light that
had captured Amy and Gwen onstage erupted into swarms of
multicolored comets, blazing about the suddenly frenzied throng.
Gwen was jolted by Amy's fingers - bound nipples suddenly
pinched.  Amy's eyes danced and she screamed into the mike, her
voice strong and carrying the weight of the world.  We're all
fucked, she screamed.  So let's fuck.

    Then she was gone and Gwen felt something thrust into her
from behind, hard and filling her up.  The urgency rocketed. 
Cool hands slapped both ass cheeks in unison, the band hammered
away on their guitar, the throng screamed, and somewhere,
sometime, the urgency inside Gwen exploded and was fulfilled. 
And Gwen wept with the power of it.

    Later, after she had been untied, after she had been given
official Fallenescence logo wear to cover her naked body, after
the consent form had been properly notarized, after the last of
the throng of Fallenites had departed, Gwen stood by Penny,
unable to speak.  She stared at the spot onstage where she had
been bound, whipped, fucked.  Where she had been consumed by a
growling power dark and dangerous.  Penny was talking a mile a
minute and in spite of the loud buzzing in her ears, Gwen paid no
attention.  Amy Lay appeared onstage to retrieve something,
looking now like someone at the shopping mal in tight jeans and
halter-top.  Gwen caught her eye and Amy nodded politely. 
Reaching into her stylish handbag, Amy pulled out a cigarette and
lit it.  She smiled through the smoke billowing around her.  Then
she left.

    "Come on, ladies.  Time to go."  Two beefy men with Event
Staff stenciled on their t-shirts sidled up to them.  One tried
to corral Penny by the arm but she swore and knocked his hand
away.
    
    "Come on, Gwen.  Let's get drunk."
    
    Gwen shrugged.  Her head was pounding.

end

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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