Rock Star

The crowd roared as the bass thundered around him. Ken's throat felt as though he had swallowed glass, but his heart pounded in rhythm with the music. The legion of fans in front of him called out his name and sang along with him. He moved around the stage with an almost comical vitality, jumping on top of speakers, sliding across on his knees, and dancing against the microphone in as lewd as manner as possible. The tremendous stage lights illuminated the crowd with a red and orange glow. The thousands looked as though they slipped from a neon dream to invade the night and celebrate some chaotic ritual. Beyond them, a city had erected overnight complete with streets and food districts and populated everywhere by a motley collection of tents. The only open spaces were in front of the stages. Towering over the rest of the microcosm world like black monoliths for worship, all of them were dark now except for the one with Ken. He was the center of all existence.

The insatiable throng fed him energy and drained his in return. His body went through the motions of performance while his mind attempted to comprehend everything he was seeing. A girl about thirty yards away sat on the shoulders of some unseen ogre. She was naked from the waist up, her torso painted, but her breasts left exposed. As all those around her thundered along with the chaos, she sat serenely in the middle of it all. Indeed, if the crowd formed a normal parabola with the stage at the vertex, then the girl was precisely at the focal point. All of the sound fed into her position before scattering out into the infinity beyond. Ken thought she was beautiful and envy poisoned his heart.

Ken's mouth was dry. His tongue felt thick and coated in cotton. He moved wearily over to the stool where his water waited. They chanted to each of his steps. In his ear, he could hear the discussion of his band mates as they prepared the next number. He was tired, and the crowd wanted more. They moved as if one giant mass, still in unison despite the song having ended. He picked up the water and drained the whole bottle. The voices in his ear grew impatient. Off the side of the stage, he could see his manager, Robert, pointing wildly at the microphone. The chant was losing its rhythm. How long had he been standing by the stool? He slid his hand in the pocket of ratty jeans.

"Ken, what the fuck are you doing? You still have half a show to do. Wake the fuck up," Robert's voice demanded over the headset.

Ken held up the small baggie containing a pair of white pills. He dangled them out in front of the audience. As it registered what he was holding, a cacophony of cheers and applause filled the air once more. He had them back. Opening the bag, he dropped the pills into his mouth and swallowed. He signaled to the band, and the next song started to play. In moments, his voice once again rang through the air, echoing throughout the universe as chemicals pumped into his bloodstream. His body seethed with energy as he ran up and down the stage. The crowd ate it up, toasting his name, crying out for his favor, and singing his songs.

He searched the crowd again for the girl at the center of it all, but she was gone. He mourned her absence for only a moment. He'd wanted to pick her out and have her sent for. She would have been brought to him like an offering to a weary god. The boyfriends never minded. They even felt it was an honor to share their lover with their god. And yet she had vanished, absorbed back into the crowd as unworthy of recognition. In her place, new women had been elevated, better to please the siren on the stage. In the front row, brazenly naked women danced for him. They were dirty from living in the camp city, but still gorgeously alluring. They hefted their breasts at him and turned around to show off their ass. They wanted to be chosen. Ken barked orders into the microphone, and the goons around him obeyed. By the next song, he had two women beside him, grinding against him with their naked bodies as the crowd urged them on.

The band played on, and Ken kept singing. Above all, he knew he had to keep singing. If he stopped for one second, the spell would be broken. All of it would fade away. His heart pounded harder and harder. Pangs of adrenaline coursed through his body. The two women with him kissed his bare chest and guided his free hand to their tits or ass. The crowd jeered and laughed. Ken could see himself between the two vixens on the giant screens. He looked rather pixelated up close, but from the distance, they were watching high definition musical pornography. His attention drifted to the side of the stage once again. Robert and some of the goons were having an animated conversation with a few men in uniform.

"Ken, for fuck's sake, get those women off the stage. The police are getting pissy." Roberts voice somehow pierced through the haze of noise and euphoria.

As the women danced around him, Ken looked over to the growing knot of security and police. "What the fuck can they do to me?" he mouthed into the flurry of sound. He saw Robert's wild gesticulations. Ken returned to singing for a moment and then held the mike out to the crowd who roared back his lyrics. As they did, he grabbed one of the women and pulled her ear close to his lips, "Why don't you suck me off, right now, on stage?" The woman responded by licking the side of his face and quickly unbuckling his pants. The tone of the crowd changed slightly as she dropped to her knees on the stage. The other woman immediately followed her lead. Cries of dismay somehow cut through the roar of cheers. After a few seconds of confusion, the crowd swelled louder than ever. Ken looked down as he continued singing. Two beautiful naked women quickly fished his cock out and without any hesitation, the first girl shoved his whole length down her throat.

Things swirled as her hot mouth surrounded him. A large commotion started across the stage. The band kept playing. The second girl rubbed his balls with one hand and played with the deep-throating girl's tits with the other. Ken's heart felt as though it might explode. He screamed as the music peaked. And then silence. The whole city plunged into darkness. His cock pulled free with a wet slurp as he stumbled back. Shadowy figures swarmed the stage. The girls were pulled to their feet and disappeared. Robert was by Ken's side pulling up his pants. Ken vaulted into the air suddenly as two massive security guards lifted him up by the arms. Ken tried to look out at the crowd again, but all the light was gone. Only a few twinkling spots signaled the presence of life as thousands tried to stay safe in the sudden darkness.

Ken laughed joyously as they carried him off the stage. The second he cleared the performance area, he blacked out.

* * * * *

He came to with a throbbing headache. His mouth tasted of vomit, and his body stank of sweat. Moving slowly, he sat up. He was in his tour bus and alone. Outside, he could hear people arguing, and the general roar of a nearby crowd. He grabbed a water bottle from a small fridge nearby and moved to a different seat. An ache settled in through his entire body. Fatigue, thirst, and a blurry feeling of sleepiness pulled at him. His body felt as though someone had loosened all of his bones. Forcing through the nausea, he choked down the water and grabbed another bottle. He wasn't upset with his body's rebellion. He agreed with it. The feeling of godhood before he'd blacked out was still tangible. More than anything, he wanted it back.

The door of the bus opened. Footsteps made Ken look over through half open eyes. Robert flicked a switch and blue running lights illuminated the cabin. Robert leaned in close and pulled open Ken's eyes one at a time. "It's been four hours," Robert announced. "Can you understand me? You didn't stroke out or some bullshit did you?"

Ken nodded. "Yeah, I get you."

"Doc doesn't know how your fucking heart didn't explode. They pumped your stomach and did god knows what else to you. To be honest though, you'd probably been better off fucking dying up there."

"Jesus, Rob, don't be too gentle, ok?"

Robert cleared a spot nearby on a bench and sat down. While Ken looked strung out and spread then, Robert had the demeanor of a man with too much weight on his shoulders. He was hunched and slightly bent from the weight of it all. Weariness crept up around his eyes and trickled into his haggard sighs. "We've got problems, Ken. This is a bad one. Getting those girls up on stage was already a indecent exposure charge. Then you whip your dick out and that makes it a lewd act they tell me. Misdemeanors and nothing out of the ordinary for you. But we have a bigger issue now. Security, on our payroll, was stopping the police from getting to you. Not sure what they'd have done, arrest you on stage I guess. But with you up on the fucking jumbo-trons mouth fucking some rando, they felt they had no choice other than to kill the power. Some fool in charge of the infrastructure stuff here agreed with them and shut down the generators. This is about when you blacked out, I think."

"Sounds fucking awesome so far," Ken murmured. He could barely focus on Robert through the pounding of his head and ringing in his ears. "Why the fuck are you making it sound like I'm in time out? We do this shit everywhere we go. It's what the people pay to see."

"You started a riot," Robert said. "We're in the middle of fucking no where. When the lights went out, people panicked. Lot of people got hurt. Here." He handed Ken a phone which he fumbled with before managing to scroll through the pictures. Each image showed a poorly lit victim of the trampling. Bloody faces and arms in slings and gashes in flesh filled the screen as he scrolled. "The problem is that because you were the source of all this, the authorities think you're liable. So that puts you on the line for all of those people's injuries, litigation from the venue because we violated every possible contract you signed, and possible criminal charges for inciting a riot."

"Criminal? It's not my fault these people went nuts or that the pig fuckers turned out the lights."

Robert laughed. "Do you not remember what you were saying? You were telling the crowd that you were a god. You demanded, what did you say, 'all sluts should line up to let you cum in their mouth.' You saw the police coming, and you ordered your ravenous fans to stop them at all costs. It wasn't just security. Police were assaulted because of what you said." He rubbed his eyes. "I've been on the phone with the lawyers for an hour. There's going to be an injunction on you performing. You're lucky not to be in jail at the moment. If we weren't in the middle of no where you probably would be. The police are trying to sort through the mess at the moment. We can maybe try to pull some bullshit and get you in rehab or whatever."

"Fuck that," Ken said.

"This is your damn career, Ken. Fuck, it's mine too and the band and the other fifty people you directly employ. We've been through this."

"Fuck it. I didn't ask for all this. You don't understand it. Nobody understands it. Look what I can do with people. You're probably right, I should be in jail, but I'm not because I'm me. Anyone else did what I did and they go to prison. I'm sitting in a fucking tour bus. How much illegal shit is in here? If they came on board and searched us, how much illegal shit would they find. But they won't. They won't touch me."

"We got rid of the drugs. No one touches you because people like me protect you, Ken. You gotta stop believing your own myth."

"You took my pills?" Suddenly frantic, Ken got to his feet and started ripping open drawers. "What the fuck did you do with them?" Ken stalked towards Robert, fists clenched at his sides and rage boiling in his heart.

Robert laughed as he got to his own feet. He towered over Ken and had the advantage of not being midway through a bender. "They're gone. You have to sober up. As soon as it's clear enough, we're leaving and dumping you into a clinic. I'll sort through the business stuff and make sure you walk out clean. Then we start over."

Ken's rage had turned into panic. "You don't get it. You fuckers never understand. I'm not going into any fucking detox because I don't want to be detoxed. Those drugs make me feel like...like I'm everything. It's what gave me the music in the first place. It's like water or food or sex. It's a need for me. Without it, I'll die. I'll become some ghost of want. I can already feel it clawing at the inside of my chest. I need them back. Now."

Robert looked down his nose at the wiry man he'd long known as a friend. The wild look in Ken's eyes wasn't unusual, but it had always been disconcerting. "You're not a god, Ken. You've got it backwards. They're the god. All those people, and they're watching you sacrifice yourself for them. Nothing gets a crowd going like seeing someone rip themselves apart." Ken pushed past Robert. "Where are you going?"

"To find my fucking pills."

"You leave this bus and you're not my problem any more," Robert said, gravely.

Ken thought for a moment. Robert had been with him since the beginning. They'd started as friends. Robert had business sense. He'd booked the gigs, made the travel arrangements, and found the right people at every turn, all long before earning the title of manager. But despite all his bluster and command, Ken saw Robert as small. Ken had felt something beyond mortality and would have it back at any cost. As he stepped out of the bus, he believed he'd left Robert behind long ago. This was only cutting off the final vestige.

* * * * *

Ken expected to be greeted by a group of his fans as he left the bus, but instead found himself in an empty lot. A ring of other vehicles blocked them from any notable traffic. A few men loitered around and looked with judgment at Ken as he staggered forward. Ken realized he was barefoot and had no shirt in a cold and slightly damp night. He guessed it must be somewhere near four in the morning if he could trust what he'd pieced together of the time line. The power would have been cut around midnight. He shambled his way through the maze of trucks and rigs until he found a footpath leading towards the heart of the tent city.

He'd done his time in places like this before becoming famous. The party always continued somewhere. For the most part, the commotion had died down. On the outskirts, the sky was painted with the flashing lights of official vehicles, but within the campground most was dark as people slept or recovered from the day. Power had been restored at some point. A few lanterns lit his way as he meandered through the tents. More than a few were open, and he glimpsed inside to see all sorts of strange bedfellows. He pressed on towards a spot of light in a more sparsely populated area usually occupied by vendors. A ring of tents had been constructed around a bright light source that spilled out through the gaps. Ken wandered in, hoping to find something to keep him going. The sound of bubbling water filled the air as he approached.

In the middle of the circle was a hot tub occupied by a pair of beautiful women. Though the roiling water obscured his vision, he knew immediately that they were naked. "Hello, stranger," one of them called. "Come over here."

As he stepped into the light, he could only think of one thing to say, "Do you know who I am?"

The two girls looked at each other. "You're that guy who was on stage. Pretty music. I'm afraid you scared away our customers though." The one who spoke had dyed red hair the color of a cheery and other had hair as black as night. Beyond that, the two girls could have been twins.

"What do you sell?"

"Experiences," the black haired girl answered with a smile.

"Join us, but wipe off your feet first," the redhead said. She rose out of the water and reached for a towel. As she emerged, Ken gaped at her naked form. He'd never seen a woman so well proportioned. Her breasts, glistening with water, hung like slightly under filled balloons from her chest . Curving slightly to come to a point at her nipple. Her butt jigged as she turned to bend over and reach behind her for a towel, providing Ken with a full view of her smooth pussy lips. The black haired girl smirked at him and let her hand snake up the other girl's thigh. The redhead turned back around and tossed the towel to Ken. "You won't need the trousers either," she added as she slipped back beneath the water.

Ken hesitated. As much as the idea of fucking two gorgeous women in a hot tub appealed to him, it wasn't exactly what he needed at the moment. As if in response to his thought, the black haired girl said, "Don't worry, we have stuff that will make whatever you took on that stage seem like stale sweet tarts."

Ken stripped down after cleaning his feet. Letting the girl blow him on stage was less awkward than having the two strange women watch him with only the sound of the moving water to accompany them. He was also somewhat concerned that his cock hadn't responded to the situation. With the slurry of chemicals in his body, it didn't especially surprise him, but it did disappoint him. The girls didn't seem to care who he was, and he'd brought no money. He had little to trade for whatever they might offer him other than sex. If his cock didn't work, he would be in a desperate position. He stepped up to the edge of the pool and gently dipped his toe in the water. It was soothingly warm, and he pondered how two young women had managed to construct a functioning hot tub in the middle of a desert field. As he lowered himself into the pool, the anxiety and stress drained out of him almost instantly. For the first time in months, he breathed easily.

"Are you ready?" the redhead asked.

"Ready for what?"

"For the best trip you've ever had," the other answered. She pulled a single pill from a silver case and held it out in the palm of her hand. "Careful. This will change everything about you. It will make you feel things you never imagined. It's a one time dose with permanent changes. Don't take it unless you want to become a whole new person."

Ken thought back to the feeling of the crowd cheering him on the stage, the throb of so many voices giving him purpose and his body being electrified with sensations beyond measure. He grabbed the pill from her hand and threw it down his throat. The girls smiled. One handed him a glass of what seemed to be champagne. He washed down the pill and waited.

* * * * *

"Who are in the other tents?" Ken asked. "More girls like you?"

The black haired one answered, "No, we're the only two for now. Eventually we'll trick the others. That's what happened to us."

"I think I'll go wake up Frank," the redhead added. "He likes to watch the change before he fucks them."

Ken's eyes drifted to her. She'd said something strange, but she was rising out of the water once again. He desperately wanted to grab her and pull her to him to feel her soft ass push against his cock. But she was already gone. The other girl moved over in the tub beside him. "So you're some kind of singer, right?" Her hand moved deftly through the water and came to grip his cock. He'd not realized it, but he'd grown rock hard at some point.

"Yeah, I'm kind of a big deal?" he giggled at the thought. It seemed such a silly thing to brag about. He felt as though he were sitting on pins and needles, but he reveled in the feeling of the woman's hand moving up and down his cock.

"You might be able keep doing that. I was an accountant. I tried going back, but the need for cum was too strong. I tried to blow my boss three times in one day before they fired me."

"Wait, why?"

"It's part of it. Don't get me wrong. I love cum. It's so delicious and makes me cream no matter where it goes in me, but it does change a little of who you can be. Seems like you're almost ready to pop, hop up on the edge so I can swallow it."