Conceptfan's Shorts


No.2 - "The Groupie"




AUTHOR'S NOTE: All of my stories have been written for an exclusively adult audience. They contain descriptions of violence, some of it of a sexual nature. They also include other sexually explicit depictions. They are in no way suitable for minors. Furthermore it is against the law in many parts of the world for this type of material to be read, either by minors or by minors and adults. Please make sure you are not acting contrary to local legislation before reading on and please do not read any further if you find this type of material offensive in any way. This is a work of fiction and any similarity between the characters and events depicted and any people/events in real-life, past or present, is purely co-incidence. A number of the characters and events portrayed are inspired by, or based upon, existing works of fiction. Although I have made every effort to keep plagiarism to a minimum, I must acknowledge a debt of thanks to the many artists and writers who have shared their talents with the public. I've released my stories to the public domain to make sure that as many people as possible who share my interest in this type of fiction can enjoy them. Please feel free to re-distribute them by whatever means you like, provided you respect the following points: (1) The stories will be re-distributed exactly as they are - unchanged and unedited. (2) No other person will claim authorship of any of these stories or any part of them. (3) The stories will not be distributed for profit, either on their own or as part of a group of other works. Lastly, thank you for your interest in this story. I hope you enjoy it!



It was just another night. Another post-gig party, booze flowing like water, drugs of every kind being openly used, record company execs trying - and failing - to be cool, roadies slumped unconscious over tables or on the floor and, of course, plenty of very young under-dressed girls trying to score with someone famous. And they didn't come much more famous than Karl. He was the lead-singer, the front man of one of the most popular bands of the day. He'd just played to yet another full house, had two tracks in the charts and a string of number ones behind him. In short, he had the world at his feet.

The sound system was blaring one of his latest big sellers as he sat on a stool at the bar, drinking neat spirits like a man who was extremely well accustomed to consuming large amount of alcohol on a daily basis. The rest of the band were scattered about the room. His bassist had been cornered by one of the suits who was showing off his very limited knowledge of the contemporary music scene. His drummer was over in a booth with one of the girls who seemed to have her hands inside his trousers. The second guitarist was lying stretched out on his back on a padded bench, his eyes closed, his brain presumably in orbit around Mars, fuelled by some narcotic cocktail.

Karl was drinking alone - he preferred solitude after appearing in front of a big crowd. He knew his presence at the party was a business essential, so he had agreed to come, and he'd already had the obligatory cursory chat with the head of the record company. Now all he had to do was hang around just long enough to avoid accusations of leaving to early. He'd bribed one of the roadies with a fistful of pills to stand nearby and make sure he wasn't disturbed by fans. The poor roadie was having a torrid time turning away various people - cousins of this exec, friends of that recording engineer, and groupies by the dozen. Karl wanted nothing to do with any of them.

The novelty of sex on tap had worn off pretty quickly for Karl when he first became big. Nowadays he preferred to spend his nights with a girl he knew, a girl who he could trust not to sell her story to the papers. Someone who had a pretty good idea what he liked, and how he liked it. In fact, there was just such a woman waiting for him back at the hotel. Karl knew she could give him far, far more pleasure than any stranger, no matter how beautiful. So he made it clear that he didn't want to be bothered by groupies. The rest of the band could screw anything that moved if they wanted and the crew could muck around with whatever was left, but he didn't want to know.

Which is why he was not a little annoyed to feel a tap on his shoulder. In reluctant response, he turned his head to the side without breaking the contact between his lips and the shot-glass in his hand. He wasn't surprised to see that the podgy finger that had prodded him belonged to his minder for the night, a strong, but enormously fat, lump of a man. What did catch him unawares, though, was the contorted grimace of pain etched on the big man's face and the way his upper body was turned slightly to one side, his left arm bent behind his back.

At first, Karl thought the roadie was trying to hide something in his fat hand, but he dismissed that thought when he saw a solitary tear glistening in a bloodshot eye. It was as if someone was holding him in a viciously tight half-nelson, the mysterious assailant completely obscured from view by the guy's physical bulk. But that didn't make sense to Karl; anyone strong enough to pin this tub of lard would also be too big to be hidden behind him. Curiosity got the better of his irritation. "Whass goin' on?" he slurred at his minder.

"There... there's... a... girl...," the fat man gasped, the sweat breaking out in a film on his red, round face. "Wants... to... meet... you."

"I told you no chicks, man. Tell her to fuck off."

"Can't... she's... g-".

The agonised roadie was interrupted by a young female voice coming from somewhere behind him.

"-Who are you telling to fuck off?" the tone was mischievous rather than confrontational, but it disorientated Karl nonetheless.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" he asked, exasperated. The female voice answered him.

"It'd be a lot easier to have this conversation without the middle man." Before Karl's half-drunk, quarter-stoned brain could formulate a reply, he was temporarily robbed of the power of speech by the sight of the huge, fat roadie appearing to rise slowly into the air, until he was levitating six inches off the ground. Karl wondered if someone in the band had slipped something into his vodka. He looked at the man's face; it seemed even more wracked with pain than before. He looked down at his shoes. No question about it. There was definitely a gap between the rubber soles and the carpet.

Karl had seen some amazing things - real and imagined - since his first hit record five years back. But nothing, no party antics, no narcotic-fuelled misbehaviour, no hallucination came even close to the sight of his massive minder hovering in the air. Nothing, that is, until a few moments later when the big guy began to move sideways, his feet motionless as he floated. After a moment, the fat man's arm became free of whatever had pinned it behind his back. Karl could see the relief spread across the roadie's face as he nursed his tree-trunk arm with his other hand. Still the big guy continued to move to the side.

Suddenly, Karl became aware of a shape emerging from behind his minder. It was a familiar shape - human. As the fat guy moved aside further, Karl saw that it was female. And young. And beautiful. And... He couldn't believe his eyes, but the more he stared the more it became clear. The beautiful, young female shape had encircled the fingers of one hand inside the back of the roadie's belt. It looked for all the world as if she had lifted the huge lump of fat off his feet and was now moving him out of her way, with one hand. Karl knew that was impossible. It had to be some kind of stunt, some sort of joke the others were playing on him. But nobody else in the room was paying any attention to him, the girl or the floating roadie.

By now, the huge guy was completely outside of the line of sight between Karl and the girl. The rock star stared at her deep green eyes, her perfect complexion and her erotic, full lips. She stared back at him, those lips parting slightly in a half-smile as she theatrically removed her fingers from their perch inside the roadie's belt. If it was a stunt, it was well rehearsed, because the second the girl let go of the belt, the big guy fell back to earth, landing clumsily and barely managing to stop himself falling over. Without letting her gaze drift from Karl's eyes she said simply "Run along now."

When the roadie actually started to make as if he was leaving, Karl's wonder turned to annoyance. "Hey!" he shouted. "I'm paying you. You go when I tell you to."

"Sorry, dude." he replied, without looking round, almost running now as he dived for the nearest exit.

"Looks like the big, strong man is afraid of a little girl." the beautiful stranger said before smiling, revealing her dazzling, immaculate teeth. Karl couldn't help but be impressed with her beauty. Now that there was nothing between them, he could take her all in. She was wearing a short, thin evening dress, cut low to display acres of firm, youthful cleavage. When he managed to tear his eyes away from her big, round breasts, Karl was able to appreciate her narrow waist, curvaceous hips and smooth, shapely legs. She was standing straight and yet relaxed, her long slender arms hanging by her thighs. Six inches shorter than him, she didn't look a day over seventeen. Even for the jaded eyes of an experienced rock star who had been around the block so many times he'd lost count, she was stunning.

"What the hell did you do to him?" he asked, vaguely indicating the door through which the big guy had exited.

"He wouldn't let me see you so I.. y'know.. twisted his arm a little."

"Why d'you want to see me anyway? Couldn't you see I didn't want to be disturbed?"

"I just wanted something." she answered, mysteriously.

"Well I haven't got anything, so why don't you just piss off and leave me alone like a good girl?" Karl saw the girl glance at the room around them, as if she wanted to check if anybody was watching them. No-one was.

When she had confirmed that they were unobserved, her left hand flashed out, grabbing his right wrist. She took a step closer to him, holding his captured arm low between them, out of sight of any onlookers. Karl's mind was suddenly filled with pain as the girl squeezed his wrist between her delicate fingers: tears welled in his eyes, his breathing became quick and laboured. It felt like a vice had been closed on his arm. Through watery, half-closed eyes, he looked at his assailant. She looked as calm and as beautiful as a moment before. As if to prove that she was making no effort to inflict such pain, she said "No I won't piss off. Oh, and by the way, I'm not a good girl."

"Let go of me for fucksake!" hissed Karl through his clenched teeth, the pain from his wrist rapidly becoming intolerable. The girl made no attempt to reply or to relax her hold on him, so Karl tried to prise apart her fingers with his free hand. He failed to make the slightest impression on her grip. In desperation, he kicked her bare shin once, then again and then several times in quick succession. Even though he was wearing heavy shoes, the only reaction his kicks produced was a tightening of her little feminine hand around his tortured wrist. New pain tore through his arm. He felt certain that his bones were about to be crushed. "Oh, Christ, no!" he spluttered. "Let me go, please! Just tell me what you want!"

She eased the force of her grip slightly so he no longer feared for his bones, but kept it tight enough to hurt. A lot. Then, she extended the index finger of her right hand and brought it slowly upwards, under his chin. "I'll tell you what I want," she said, lifting her finger upwards and tilting his chin back so that he was looking at her. Karl tried to push against her, his neck muscles straining, but once again his efforts were wasted. He used his left hand once more, pulling downwards on her fist with all his strength and weight, but she kept on pushing his head upwards with her single finger, completely unaffected by his struggles. Once she had raised his chin so that his eyes looked into hers, she added, "What I want, Karl, is you."

"I'm not available." He managed to say, despite his extreme discomfort.

"Yes you are." She replied, flatly. "Right now." Again, she threw a quick glance around the room to check if anyone was watching. Satisfied that they were still unobserved, she stepped incredibly swiftly from directly in front of him so that she was standing by his side before he even realised that she was moving. At the same time, she released his arm, which he immediately hugged to himself in relief.

"What the fuck?" he said when he realised that she was now next to him.

"You're coming with me. Now.", she answered.

"Hey! No, I'm n-" His words were cut off as her hand darted like lightening into his trouser pocket, two of her fingers expertly grabbing his penis through the lining. The agony that instantly raced from his loins to his brain made him wish she was still crushing his arm. "Eaaaoww!" he roared as his hands tried to pull her out of his pocket, with a now familiar lack of success.

She squeezed even tighter, making him see stars, and then she hissed in his ear, "Shhh! Don't make a scene or I'll snap it off." He tried to say something to her, but he was clearly in to much pain to be able to formulate proper words. He felt her other arm round his waist, holding him fast, but not uncomfortably. Not that he could feel much else with the pain in his organ reaching phenomenal levels. "Just walk calmly with me. This way," she said, taking a step away from the bar. Karl felt himself being pulled off his feet by the arm around his midriff. "Walk!" she instructed him once more, "Or you'll be singing soprano from now on."

The agony was too great. Karl did as he was told, his feet moving beneath him as she strode towards one of the exit doors, almost dragging him along with her. He realised that her arm around him made it look to everyone that they were a couple. He wanted to cry out for help, to say that he - the great rock star - was being kidnapped in the middle of a party by a slender girl slightly more than half his age, but he feared for his reproductive organ. He meekly let her lead him out of the room, onto a staircase.

Once she had shut the door behind her, she finally removed her hand from his penis. Karl barely had time to catch his breath when he felt the other arm - the one around his waist - tightening dramatically. Once more, he fought against her and once more he could do nothing to stop her. He tried to call for help, but found that she had squeezed almost all the air from his body and no sound would leave his lips. Then, to his shock, he found his whole body tilting, his head lowering and his feet coming off the floor. He pummelled at her flat stomach with both his fists and soon found his hands bruising. She seemed not to even notice his frantic assault. Pretty soon, he was horizontal. She was carrying him, tucked under her slender arm as if he was a rolled up newspaper, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.

The girl turned and faced the stairs, Karl's head and feet swinging around with her like he was weightless. She began to run upstairs, so quickly that the wall became a blur. The party had taken place on the fifth floor of the thirty-storey block, but it was only about half-a-minute until she reached the top of the stairs. Dizzy from being shaken about so violently, Karl was struggling to get some air into his lungs, his ability to breathe severely restricted by the girl's one-armed embrace. He caught sight of her beautiful face. She wasn't even a little out of breath, despite having ran up fifty flights of stairs with a big man tucked under her arm.

There was a big, steel door ahead of them, secured with a heavy padlock. Karl watch in disbelief as she reached for the door with her free hand, her small fist punching right through the inch-thick steel with a loud bang, puncturing it well left of centre, about a foot from the ceiling. Then, she closed her fingers around the hole she'd made and slowly pulled downwards, all the while holding him fast with her other arm. The metal gave off a groan as she tore away a strip about six inches wide and two foot long. She seemed to be finding it as easy as Karl found tearing off a strip of old wallpaper.

She left the torn strip of steel hanging in place as she repeated the whole process, punching another hole and tearing more metal, this time about eighteen inches to the right of the first piece. Next, she reached down for Karl, relaxing the arm holding him, but grabbing him with her other hand around the collar of his shirt. His feet hit the ground and he tried to run but he got nowhere, the grip around his collar proving too secure. With her one hand on his throat, she pushed him back against the metal door, between the two tears she had just made. He kicked out at her, making good contact with her naked thigh, but she ignored him. He pushed against her hold, but by now he knew she was far, far too strong for him.

He felt himself being pushed downwards so that his knees were bent and his eyes were level with her nose. Her free hand captured his wrist, bringing it up beside his head, his frantic efforts to resist her achieving nothing. She pinned his hand against the door with two fingers whilst the other fingers of her hand hooked around one of the strips of steel she'd peeled before. This she casually folded over his wrist, bending the inch-thick metal as if it was wet cardboard. As she removed her hand, Karl found that his arm was held firm by her improvised handcuff. He'd seen her tear the steel so easily, but it was utterly unyielding to his struggles. She then captured his other hand, brought that up to the door and secured it with the other strip of metal she'd prepared.

As Karl fought in vain to free his hands, she took a step back as if to admire her handiwork. Then, with one hand, she ripped his shirt from his body, the fabric tearing to shreds. She hooked two fingers from the same hand around his thick leather belt and, with a little tug, snapped it in half. Seconds later, she'd torn off his trousers and his shorts. She looked down at Karl's flaccid organ and said, with mock disappointment, "Don't you like me then? Or don't you like it when you're not in charge? Too bad."

She stepped back again, removing the straps of her dress from her shoulders. It fell gently around her feet. She was completely naked underneath. And she was perfect. Not a blemish on her creamy skin, her breasts large and round and high on her chest, their nipples huge. Her waist flat, her thighs smooth, her pubic hair neat and inviting. Despite his discomfort and his disorientation, Karl felt himself responding to her. She approached him, letting her breasts bounce with her step until her big nipples were just inches from his chest. Then she placed her finger under his chin one more, lifting his head until his gaze met hers.

She leant forward until her mouth was almost touching his and breathed into his face as she said. "You're mine now, Karl. I've wanted you since the first time I saw you on television and I always get what I want." Her warm, sweet breath washed over him, making him tremble at the knees, but still he said:

"I belong to no-one.".

At that moment, she kissed him, her soft lips pressing against his, for a instant before she broke the contact and repeated "You're mine, Karl."

"No, I -". She leant into him, her nipples brushing against his chest. Blood pumped into his penis, his organ betraying him as it became ever harder. She kissed him again, for longer this time, her tongue inexorably prising his clenched teeth apart and entering his mouth. He tried to force it out with his own but she flicked it aside and began exploring deeply. Karl felt his mind racing with conflicting thoughts as her tongue ran free inside his mouth. He wanted to resist her, but he could feel himself surrendering against his will to her erotic power.

She pressed her whole body up against his, her big breasts pushing hard against his ribcage, forcing the air from his lungs. His organ became fully erect as he struggled to breathe. She withdrew her tongue and ended the kiss, pulling her face about an inch away from his, at the same time slightly easing the pressure on his chest so that he could grab some oxygen. Then she took hold of his throbbing penis once more, holding it firmly but not too uncomfortably. She bent her knees a little, causing her breasts to drag down his chest almost painfully. She smiled and straightened her legs again, rubbing her chest against his again. His whole body shook.

The girl began to bend and straighten her legs again and again, stroking him repeatedly with her large breasts. Karl felt himself about to orgasm, and realised that her grip on his organ was preventing his release. "Oh God!" he cried in new agony. "What are you doing to me?" She stopped moving and with her mouth still so close to his, said:

"Can't you see, Karl? You're mine now. I control you. You can't cum unless I let you."

"Wha? No! No, I'm not yo-". His protest was ended as she leaned into him once more, this time pushing herself far harder against him, stopping his breath completely. Her big feminine mounds pressed painfully against his chest, making his eyes water. He was in terrible pain, but the sheer eroticism of her breasts as they overpowered him increased the pressure in his loins still further. Her grip on his penis was all that prevented his orgasm. She let her wonderful breath fill his senses and make his yearning even more intolerable as she whispered,

"You are mine, aren't you, Karl? I can do whatever I want with you, can't I?"

She increased the pressure of her chest against his as she spoke, until Karl was convinced that his rib-cage was about to collapse. His need to orgasm grew still further. Karl knew that even the pain was turning him on now. The knowledge that it was being caused by her wonderful breasts made him welcome it. Not even for a second had he been able to resist this girl physically. Now, with his hands held fast with steel bonds that she herself had torn and his bones about to crumble beneath her seemingly soft femininity, he knew that he could not resist her erotically, either. She was in total control of him. Even as she threatened to kill him, he knew he wanted to please her.

The girl seemed to sense his thoughts. She relaxed the crushing force against his ribcage slightly and kissed him violently once more, her tongue pushing his hard against the roof of his mouth. Again the pain only heightened his desire. She pulled her lips away from his and stared into his eyes. "Say it, Karl," she insisted, exhaling so very erotically into his face. "Say that you are mine."

"I am yours," said Karl, the truth of the statement now abundantly clear to him. She responded by thrusting out her hips and using the hand on his penis to guide him fully into her. Something inside her gripped him as tightly as her hand had done, preventing his release. She began to take him in and out, maintaining the inner hold. With every forward stroke, her hips slammed his pelvis, pushing him into the metal door and her breasts crushed his chest. Karl feared he would pass out and found himself fighting to retain consciousness, knowing that that was what she wanted. He truly belonged to her now.

She threw her head back, letting out a low moan, still gripping him with mysterious inner muscles as she enjoyed her climax. She began to thrust even faster until Karl was being hammered against the steel behind him several times a second, but still he struggled not to pass out. She orgasmed again and then a third time and a fourth. Still she held him inside her so tightly that his own release was impossible. Her body became a blur as she moved still more rapidly, enjoying two more climaxes until finally she slowed to a more conventional pace, and relaxed her unearthly grip on him.

Karl felt as though his whole existence was spurting through his penis into her as he shook with the most prolonged and violent orgasm of his life. He was still cuming when she suddenly pulled herself off him. "Well," she said, her voice cold, "that was pretty disappointing." Karl's spirits sank. He was hers. Her wanted to give her pleasure.

"Let me try again" he pleaded, oblivious to the bruising that now covered his body. "I am yours. Let me please you." The girl laughed cruelly.

"You really are mine, aren't you Karl. Too bad I don't want to keep you." Still laughing, she leaned into him for a final time, pressing her breasts up against him once more, this time far harder than before. His ribs were incapable of holding out any longer. She pushed still further against him, enjoying the sensation of her femininity crushing his bones. She saw his eyes bulge and then become dim as his head flopped onto his chest. She stepped away from Karl's lifeless body and, picking up her dress from the floor, she slipped it back on. Then she turned around and headed back downstairs towards the party. "I wonder if the drummer will turn out to be a bit more of a man than he was." she thought.

  

Conceptfan, Nov. 2001.