Part four: A Punishing Gig. Amber lands The Swerves a gig at a fetish club.
THE STORY SO FAR: After falling into the music industry (and her boss Will’s bed), Amber started moonlighting from her PR day job to manage indie band The Swerves. She’s had some pretty raunchy escapades with both the lead singer, Dan, and his girlfriend, Daisy – but how far is the music industry going to push Amber’s sexual limits while she’s trying to push the band?
So what do you think? Should we do it?” Amber looked furtively around, seriously hoping that Will wouldn’t catch her chatting to Sally about The Swerves and ask what was going on.
“Well, it’s going to be a pretty big audience given they’re not exactly floor-fillers yet,” Sally mused. “It’s a Friday night, they’re in a good slot and the venue has great acoustics and a solid reputation.” Amber could still detect a note of scepticism in her voice, though.
“OK, but…?”
“Well, just read the promo blurb, Amber. Enter the dark side and release your inner slut? It’s not exactly going to be a muso crowd there. Are they going to get taken seriously?”
“Is it only musos that buy records?” Amber asked. “And anyway, they’re playing in the club zone so people will be there to dance, and that’s about as seriously as they want to be taken. It’s about helping the crowd have a good time, not getting blokes stroking their chins and talking about the significance of using a minor key.”
Amber was unsure why she was trying to argue for the gig, other than the fact it was her first opportunity to manage the band in a live situation. It wasn’t exactly her dream night out, but apparently the promoter had seen The Swerves gigging a few weeks before and remembered them when the band he’d initially booked had cancelled at the last minute.
“No, I guess you’re right,” sighed Sally. “Well, if you want to do it then just chuck me the promoter’s number and I’ll sort the contract. But I’m sorry, Amber, I won’t be at the gig. I don’t mind trekking to Basingstoke or waiting around all night when they’ve got a 4am slot at some dive, but I draw the line at wearing lingerie in public.”
Sally looked pointedly at Amber’s laptop, where the venue’s internet image gallery had just finished loading. It was full of scantily-clad people dancing, drinking and debauching.
OK, Decadence wasn’t the kind of place Amber would choose to go to every night, but some of the photos looked quite interesting. The crowd was surprisingly cute and the décor looked sensual – all velvet drapes and church candles. Some of the furniture looked a little scary, but she was only there to represent the band and once they were done she could leave.
“Planning a night out, ladies?” Will’s voice interrupted the pair, and Amber hurriedly closed the tab before he could look more closely at the pictures
“Just checking out a venue, Will.” Sally said. “Could be good for the Quantum album launch. Assuming they manage to get through the single promo without getting arrested.”
Good call by Sally, thought Amber, as Will went off on one about the errant rock band who’d been making his life hell on their recent promo tour, leaving her to text Dan surreptitiously with the good news. All she had to do now was figure out what to wear.
Variety Performance
“Bloody hell girl – you scrub up well!” exclaimed Kenny as Amber clambered into the van, trying not to let her skirt ride up. She’d spent the evening foraging through her cupboards, keeping her fingers crossed that she hadn’t binned the PVC skirt she’d been bought by a hopeful ex. By the time she’d found the skimpy item the band were due to pick her up, so she’d hurriedly dug out a pair of fishnets, teamed them with her spike heeled boots and pulled a ripped black T-shirt over her head. Her final accessory was a thick, platinum blonde wig she’d worn one Halloween – she didn’t want to get recognised, after all.
Amber had hoped that her outfit was fetishistic enough for her to get in and when she saw Daisy in a similar look, albeit without a wig, she breathed a sigh of relief. The promoter had been very specific about the dress code – even the band had to look the part and, glancing around the van, Amber couldn’t help but be impressed.
Dan was wearing a ruffle-fronted shirt with tight black trousers and a cloak. His hair was slicked back, giving him a decidedly vampiric look. Kenny had opted for biker boots, leather trousers and a matching waistcoat, which displayed his hunky chest flatteringly. Zak was wearing a mesh vest which showed his muscles off to admirable effect, plus a pair of well-worn combats. But it was Alex who shocked Amber most. Usually the shyest of the bunch, today he oozed confidence in an exquisitely tailored vintage-style suit with a twist – it was made entirely of rubber. He still wore his geeky glasses but, along with his suit, they made him look even sexier.
“I could say the same for you guys,” Amber said. “So, want to show me the set list?”
Amber checked that everything was as it should be as they sped through London on their way to the venue. She just hoped that she wasn’t making a huge mistake. A few hours later Amber knew that, if nothing else, booking the band in hadn’t been an error.
“That was incredible,” panted Dan as he clambered down from the stage. “Did you feel the energy in the room?”
“I certainly did,” Amber said. There was no doubt that The Swerves had gone down well – almost as well as the redhead who’d been fellating a woman with a strap-on beside the stage, throughout the band’s set!
Daisy and Amber had danced together, occasionally pointing out a particularly wild scene to each other. Couples were openly fucking on the dancefloor, some eagerly inviting caresses from the people around them. At the opposite end of the venue, another stage featured a whipping demonstration, with a series of scantily clad women growing ever more so at the stroke of their Master’s bull whip. It was eye-opening, thought Amber, but it wasn’t really her sort of thing.
“Do you want to get packed up then, boys?” she asked, hopefully. “And miss all this? Don’t be daft,” Dan laughed. “I want to meet my audience. Particularly her. What do you think, Dais?” Daisy nodded enthusiastically as she checked out the object of Dan’s lust. She grabbed his hand and he led her towards a voluptuous blonde who was bursting out of a naughty waitress costume. As the three of them started dancing, Amber knew she wasn’t going to tempt them away any time soon – which was a little inconvenient given that Dan was the one driving them home. The venue was too far away from home for her to get a cab, unless she fancied living on rice and soy sauce for the rest of the month. There was only one thing for it – she headed to the bar and ordered a drink.
Dungeons And Dommes
By her second martini, Amber was starting to relax. Kenny had come to join her at the bar, and the air of them enjoyed watching the bizarre floor show unfolding in front of them.
Alex was proving to be good entertainment, cutting some serious moves on the dancefloor – first with a girl wearing nothing but a feather head-dress, then with a lady in a glittery bikini and now with a seriously sexy brunette babe in a rubber crinoline. From the way that Alex was grinding against her, Amber suspected he wouldn’t be going home alone if he had his way.
Meanwhile, Zak was drawing a host of admirers of every gender – male, female and in between – and didn’t seem to be discriminating between them. Amber and Kenny were having a hard time keeping count of how many of them he’d snogged and, when they saw him head for a dark corner with a mixed group of strangers, they gave up even trying.
“Looks like he’s in for a good night,” Kenny chuckled. “What about you? See anything you like the look of?”
Amber smiled. “I’m not really into public sex.” “Bo-oring,” pealed Kenny in a mocking voice. “That’s hardly very rock’n’roll, is it? The least you can do is come and explore with me a bit.” “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do anything,” Amber said. “I don’t mean like that. idiot I have no inclination to fuck you. I was just going to take you to check out the dungeon. You can’t come to a place like this without seeing everything that’s going on now, can you?”
Amber was inclined to agree. After all, it wasn’t as if she was likely to come to a place like this again unless the band became regulars on the fetish scene – unlikely! – so she thought she may as well see everything she could.
She followed Kenny through an arch and down a corridor until the squeals and thwacks emanating from a dark doorway suggested they’d found what they were looking for. Squeezing Kenny’s hand for support, Amber followed him into the blackness.
Once inside the dungeon, a steward directed her towards a poster on the wall with the heading ‘House Rules’. Amber skimmed it, learning that she wasn’t allowed to hit anyone without permission and that the universal safe word, should she decide to play, was ‘red’. She squeezed Kenny’s hand again, but he dropped it once he’d returned the squeeze.
“Grab us a seat. I’m just going to the bar. What do you want?” ‘I wish you’d stay here,’ thought Amber, but she didn’t want to be a wimp. “A Dirty Martini please,” she said, and wandered over to a red velvet chaise longue on a pedestal that conveniently overlooked the room.
“May I kiss your boots, Mistress?” A buff guy who Amber guessed was in his thirties appeared within seconds of her sitting down. She was slightly perturbed. Until now a few people had thrown a smile in her direction, but nobody had approached her; if anything, she felt safer than she did at a normal club. Why did this stranger think she’d want him to do something like that? Then he indicated towards the sign saying ‘Worship me’ above her head and all became clear. She hadn’t noticed it when she’d sat down, but she’d heard someone talking about the female domination zone earlier.
Amber looked at the man’s firm pecs, shown off in their leather harness, and gradually let her gaze run up his body to his face. She was amused to see that he dropped his eyes the second she looked directly at him. “What’s the harm?” she thought.
“You may,” she said in her sternest voice. “But you must do whatever I demand afterwards.” She figured she may as well get something out of it at least. The man whimpered in arousal as he probed her shiny leather boots with his tongue, but after 10 minutes Amber began to tire of his ministrations. “Stop,” she ordered. “You’re boring me. Now, find me somewhere to sit where I won’t be plagued by little men like you.”
Getting The Beat
The slave was as good as his word (or rather, whimper) and led Amber to a prime position in front of a velvet curtain. In front of her a woman was bent over a bench, her buttocks being spanked bare-handed by a masked man. He clearly knew what he was doing if the woman’s wriggles were anything to go by. Amber couldn’t take her eyes off the buttocks before her, which were getting redder and redder while the woman’s moans became ever more orgasmic. When the man pulled out a leather paddle, the woman went really wild. Her cries were turning heads, and keeping them turned as they realised that she was frigging herself with one hand while the other gripped the spanking bench in what looked like a blissful mix of pain and pleasure. With a mighty scream, the woman came and the masked man administered one more slap before rubbing some lotion into her buttocks. After this the woman gradually stood, rubbing her sore buttocks before thanking her “Master” and absconding.
“Who’s next?” asked the steward manning the area. No one stepped forward, and Amber was filled with a wonderfully lascivious feeling. What if she tried it? The previous subject had certainly looked like she’d enjoyed it, and Kenny seemed to have gone missing. It was as good a way as any to fill the time. Amber stepped forward.
“I’d like to try it,” she said. “I’ve never done it before though. Is that OK?” The steward nodded. “We’ve got ourselves a virgin here,” he called to the masked man, who gave him a thumbs-up sign. Whether that meant he was going to be cruel or kind was something that Amber couldn’t quite figure out. Barely looking at the masked man, she bent over the spanking bench, pulling her skirt up around her waist, and her muscles tensed as they awaited that first strike.
Amber seemed to anticipate the impact of his hand on her flesh for an age before she felt it. She relaxed at the first stroke. It wasn’t hard at all. If anything, it was a little too gentle. She wriggled her buttocks at her spanker, hoping to spur him on. It might be her first time, but she wanted to at least feel like she’d been spanked. The next stroke was similarly soft but, as he sped up, the intensity grew and Amber began to realise why the woman had been groaning. It felt as if he was warming her whole body from the buttocks outwards and, after just a few minutes, she began to feel the heat centring in her clit. She couldn’t help but moan and was rewarded with a firmer slap.
“Do you want to stop?” the stranger whispered, his voice soothing her in a way that was almost familiar to her. The stranger alternated buttocks, first the left, then the right, but it was only when he paused that Amber realised quite how much her arse was stinging. She decided that it was worth it for the high she was experiencing.
“Take me further,” Amber replied before she could stop herself. From her peripheral, she saw the stranger pick up his paddle, rub an antibacterial wipe over it, then nod his acquiescence. “If you insist.” Again he started slowly but, this time, he built the pressure more quickly. Amber’s head was spinning, her breath coming out in mewled moans. She could feel the air chill her wetness every time the man pulled the paddle back, and knew she had to come. She moved her hand down to her clit and began grinding against it, harder with every fresh stroke. The stranger seemed to sense that she was nearing the edge and spanked more vigorously, pausing for longer between strokes to offer a delicious tease.
As Amber felt her orgasm rush through her body, the pleasure was matched by the pain of three hard slaps of her arse, followed by the most exquisitely soothing sensation she’d ever experienced as the man rubbed that magic lotion into her aching cheeks. His touch was tender, almost loving, and Amber moaned once more. Then, head still spinning, she sat up – but something was wrong. Her wig had caught on the spanking bench and, as she’d sat up, it had been pulled off her head.
“Fucking hell!” She heard his voice as she reached for the wig. It couldn’t be! As Amber turned round, she could see the Master was set to scarper. “I know you, don’t I?” she exclaimed. “No,” said the man, then hurriedly, “I have to go!”
Before he could disappear, Amber reached for the man’s mask, pulling it off. Her worst fears were realised as she revealed the face of Will, staring back at her. She’d just come at her boss’s hands, and after she’d sworn she’d never go near him again!
Their eyes locked for what seemed an age, and the exchange was broken only by a voice.
It was Kenny’s. “Amber, you ready love? Dan and Daisy have had their kicks and they’re ready to go. We just need you to get the cash from the promoter and we can give you a lift home.”
“And you are?” Will’s voice was icy as he turned to Kenny “
Excuse me? I’m one of the band – she’s our manager,” Kenny said. Then, with an eye roll, “Don’t worry, I’ve got no interest in fucking her.”
Amber swore under her breath. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she’d come at the hands of Will, she’d now been outed as a moonlighter. She looked Will in the eye. “I’m so sorry–” she started, but Will cut her off. “We need to talk,” he told her with a stern look. “Alone.” Amber felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something told her that the punishment she’d just received was nothing compared to what was yet to come.
Read Part Five of Making Sweet Music.
