The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 08

Ace woke up on Wednesday morning having slept better than he thought he might.

He dreamed about Pete. In his dream, the two of them were sitting side by side in a bus shelter, holding hands, waiting for their ride. It was late at night, and the last bus of the evening was on the way. It was quiet, and there was nobody else around. Ace wasn't sure where they were going, or even which city they were in, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he and Pete were sitting together. In his dream, Ace felt warm, loved, and at peace.

As his eyes blinked open, the beautiful feeling from his dream remained with him for a fraction of a second, but it dissolved as reality intruded. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he woke up.

He remembered that he and Pete broke up last night, and a part of him felt lost.

Ace still wanted him, though he knew he couldn't have him anymore. But on the upside, they hadn't been together for very long, and he felt sure they'd be friends forever. Most of their relationship had been spent living in different states, and no matter how strong his feelings for Ass To Mouth's sexy drummer, he worried that it might've become harder and harder over time to maintain a connection. Especially because Ace found it almost impossible to keep his dick in his pants.

He got up, pulled on a t-shirt and boxers, and took a piss before flopping down onto his couch.

Ace knew there'd never be a shortage of sex in his life. Fuck, there were dozens of metalheads, goths and femboys in Florida who wanted him bad. He'd toned down his fuckboi persona while he and Pete were together, but now that there was no longer any need for him to restrain his primal urges, he fired up Grindr.

If there was anything on earth that was guaranteed to put Ace in a good mood, it was hot sex with a hot dude. Or a hot femboy.

It took just five minutes for him to get five taps, three of which were pre-Pete bootycalls. He was just about to re-share his explicit, private album with a fat-assed long-haired dude he used to boink on the regular when a call came in.

He recognised the number as soon as he looked at the screen -- it was the same set of digits Pete read out to him over the phone last night, just before they broke up. They belonged to Candii, the rep from Swallow Records.

Ace's heart began to race with anticipation. 'Don't be over-eager,' he told himself. 'This could be a big break for us, so play it cool.'

He let it ring a little longer before pressing the green button to accept the call. "Hello?" he answered. He heard a female voice on the other end of the line.

"Uhh, hello," responded Candii. "Am I speaking with Ace?"

"Yeah, that's me, I'm Ace." He flicked his blonde locks away from his ear. "Who's calling?" Candii's voice was a little deeper than he'd expected.

Candii cleared her throat. "Hi, Ace. My name is Candii, and I'm with a Canadian record label called Swallow."

"Nice of you to call," said Ace. "What can I do for you?"

"Ace, are you in a band called Boipussy?"

"Yeah", he confirmed, "I am. Why do you ask?"

"Cool, so I've dialled the right number. I want to proposition you," Candii disclosed. She cleared her throat again. "Wait. Sorry. Please let me rephrase that. I have a proposition for you. And for your band."

"Sounds interesting," said Ace, trying hard to keep his nerves in check.

"We recently signed a band from Atlanta to our label. They're called Ass To Mouth," Candii explained. "I believe you know them? Anyway, they recently completed a short tour of Canada, and I caught them in action at two of their shows. I was recently talking with A2M's drummer about a tour Swallow Records is planning in the States to showcase some promising new metal acts. I mentioned to him that I've been hearing good things about a Florida band called Boipussy, and he told me that you'd played a few gigs together lately. He suggested that I check you out."

"Did you get my number from Pete?" asked Ace.

"Yeah," Candii replied, noticing that Ace had referred to Ass To Mouth's drummer by his first name. "I hope that's cool with you?"

"Of course it is. No problem." Ace remained silent, waiting for Candii to continue.

Ace's voice was doing something to Candii's crotch that she couldn't quite understand. She scratched the shaft of her cock through her panties. "Anyway," she said, "I followed his advice. I checked out some of your online demoes last night, and I found a short clip of Boipussy on youtube. The upload looked like it was filmed on someone's phone. Even though the sound quality wasn't great, I was impressed with what I heard, and if I can be honest, Ace, it seemed to me like you had a stage presence. If I can cut to the chase, I'd love to get Boipussy on the tour. You rock hard. Pete told me you guys play a ... umm ... a tight live set." She paused for a second. "That was definitely the word he used to describe you. Tight."

Ace wondered if Pete had said anything about the buttplug Ace regularly wore onstage. He wasn't into women, but maybe this Candii bitch might still be impressed in some way by his stage gimmick.

"Wow," said Ace, "that's amazing news. Thanks for your offer. I need to check with the rest of the band before I can confirm. It sounds enticing, but I need to be honest upfront about something first."

"What's that?" Candii asked.

"While we aspire for Boipussy to be the biggest band in the world," Ace explained, "our current financial situation isn't healthy. I mean, we've been playing together for fucking years ... oops, sorry about the language, miss ... and we get lots of work in Florida, but I don't know how many people know us outside the south-east, and we each have day jobs so we can pay the rent. Like, I mean, we're aching to be successful, and we think we've got what it takes, but it's hard to move to the next rung on the ladder right now. We have a bank account (Ace remembered just how hard it was to register an account with the name Boipussy), but there isn't much money in it. Whenever we get paid for a gig, the money gets recycled into more equipment. Guitar repairs, a more powerful bass rig, better drums. You get the picture."

On the other end of the phone line, Candii nodded. "I certainly do get the picture, Ace. I know how it goes. I've been in this business for a few years. And that might be where I come in."

"Huh?"

"This tour could be the break Boipussy needs, Ace."

Ace waited a few seconds before responding. "I hear what you're saying, Candii, and it sounds like a fuckin' awesome opportunity, but I'm not sure. I mean, like I said, we don't have enough money. We can't afford it." He remembered the sweet financial deal Pete explained to him last night, and he hoped Candii would offer the same to Ace.

Candii knew how the industry worked. Bands slogged their guts out on stage, travelling from gig to gig on their own dime, staying in the cheapest motels available and barely eating anything, to save as much money as they could. Most bands earned just enough to pay for their gear and rehearsal time, and if they were lucky, they had some extra cash set aside to cut a demo in a recording studio. She assumed A2M were in a better financial position to Boipussy if they could afford a Canada tour, but she didn't know anything about the money Gorilla left Carlos when he died that had all been spent. Take that away, and A2M were just as broke as their Florida compatriots, and their bank account was stuck in the same endless loop.

"I've seen too many bands work their local circuit to death, playing every gig on offer," Candii replied, "but never getting the break they need to move to the next level. I've seen bands split up in frustration, where members end up hating each other and blaming each other for the rest of their failed lives. I've seen deep friendships ruined and lives destroyed. I'm sure you've seen this too, Ace, and I'm sure you're scared of it happening to Boipussy. We've never met, but I'm sure you're worldly enough to know that talent, ability and potential isn't enough. Sometimes, a little bit of luck can go a long way."

She loved being a fairy trans-mother for cute rocker boys.

"Here's the deal," Candii continued. "Swallow Records will be organising the entire itinerary. That includes dates, venues, accommodation and transport for the duration of the tour. All Boipussy needs to do is to get yourselves and your equipment to the first show, and to get yourselves back home after the last one. Can your bank account stretch that far?"

"Yeah," Ace replied. "Yeah, I think so." (He genuinely wasn't sure. He'd need to check. But if they didn't have enough money in their account, he'd take out a personal loan.)

"The only catch," Candii explained, "is that we can't guarantee any of the bands will make any money. If the festival tanks, Swallow is insured, but each band will only take a split of the profits if the festival is financially successful. You might not make any money, but you won't stand to lose any either. One thing I *can* guarantee you is that you'll get to play in front of new audiences that haven't heard of you before, you'll be able to network with other bands on the label, and you'll be able to make some cash on the side by selling your own merchandise, if you have any."

Ace remembered joking to Pete last night about getting some t-shirts printed if Boipussy got on the bill. He smiled. This sounded fucking amazing. He'd kept his cool so far, and while he could feel the conversation reaching its conclusion, he needed to remain level-headed until it was over. "I can't commit on behalf of the band without talking to the other members first, but it'll be easier to explain your plan to them if I can give them some information. What's it going to be called?"

"We haven't decided that yet," Candii said. "For now, just tell them it's a touring festival organised by Swallow Records to showcase new metal bands."

"I can do that. How long will it run for, how many shows will there be, and which cities is the tour going to?"

"Again, said Candii, "I can't tell you too much right now, because some components aren't locked in just yet, but we're planning for seven shows across a two week period. Most of the shows will be in the south, and we're looking at putting on a show in your own State of Florida."

"Thanks," said Ace. "I'm also curious which other bands have signed or are being approached, but I know you won't be able to tell me. So can I ask whether Ass To Mouth are on the bill?"

"That's one thing I can definitely tell you," Candii said. "I spoke with their drummer recently, and they're locked in. You can tell the rest of Boipussy if you like."

Ace already knew A2M were on the tour, but hearing it from Candii's unusually deep voice made this whole insane thing feel intensely real. "OK," he said, "good to know. One other question. When do you need an answer from us by?"

"Our website and communication strategy are ready to launch," Candii replied, "so as soon as possible, I guess. The other thing to consider is we're talking with two other unsigned bands, but we're giving you first call on the basis of the strong recommendation from Ass To Mouth. So if you could confirm with ASAFP, it'd work out well for everyone."

Ace grinned. "Thanks for the call, Candii. On behalf of the band, we really appreciate the offer and the opportunity. I'll hit the phones and call you back soon."

Candii hung up. She switched on her laptop and found the amateur youtube upload of Boipussy. Her hard cock bounced out of her panties and she sighed as she teased her massive plastic tits. She watched Ace bouncing around on stage, his long hair flying in all directions and his hips perpetually thrusting back and forth. She stroked and tugged herself for a few seconds before trickles of warm milk spilled out of the head of her bulging she-cock.

Already, Candii couldn't wait to meet Ace in the flesh. She licked her hand clean before turning her mind back to work.

Ace dropped his cell onto the couch and slamdanced around the room, his long blonde mane flailing. The remainder of his emotional funk flew straight out the window, knowing he'd said all the right things and asked all the right questions. He steadied himself to make four crucial phone calls, one to each member of Boipussy. Half an hour later, he had four very enthusiastic responses. One of Boipussy's guitarists sounded sceptical at first, as if this offer sounded too good to be true, but once Ace explained that Ass To Mouth were already on board and that he'd heard the news from Pete directly, his bandmate's resistance dissolved.

Ace called Candii back to graciously accept Swallow's proposal.

Under normal circumstances, Ace's next call would've been to Pete, but given they broke up just last night, a text message would have to do.

Ace: Hey dude I hope you're well. Just got a call from Candii to offer us a spot on the tour you mentioned. I called the boys and we're in. Fuck, man -- A2M and Boipussy are gonna be taking on the world together, I can't wait!

Pete was at work, pretending to be enthusiastic about his job, when Ace texted. He was seriously considering quitting, but quitting a law internship was a huge, potentially life-changing decision. He'd worked ridiculously hard to get this internship, and even though the pay was pitiful, he knew the financial rewards were scheduled to come later, after he'd passed his final exams at law school. It seemed almost irresponsible to throw it away, but he also knew how hard it would be to pour his entire life and soul into music while chained to a desk. He hadn't reached a decision yet. Maybe he should talk with Carlos while they were out on tour. He smiled as he read Ace's message. He typed out a quick response.

Pete: Fuck man that's awesome news! This is gonna be huge, and I can't wait either! See you soon!

This felt to Pete like just the right amount of enthusiasm. He resisted the urge to pepper the end of his text message with a sprinkling of colourful emojis, like he often did. For now, he needed to find ways to distance himself emotionally from Ace.

Ace noticed the distinct lack of emoji flair attached to Pete's response, and although he felt crestfallen just for a second, his mood bounced back immediately, floating into the stratosphere as he looked forward to the upcoming tour.

Pete sighed as he reluctantly turned his mind back to his work.

*

Two weeks passed. Carlos continued working behind the bar at Eternal, Pete's enthusiasm for law school and his internship bounced up and down like a rubber ball, and meanwhile, Ace did ... well, fuck ... he did whatever the hell his day job was.

Both bands rehearsed their sets to within inches of their lives.

As Swallow's plans for the tour slowly began locking into place, Candii had been emailing Pete on behalf of Ass To Mouth, and Ace on behalf of Boipussy, making sure everything was co-ordinated and on track. Pete had been sharing details with his A2M bandmates as they came in.

Carlos had a night off from Eternal. Pete came over straight after law school and they ordered in some Chinese. The sun was beginning to set. They hung out on the couch, waiting for their food to arrive. Carlos stole surreptitious glances at his boyfriend - why the hell had he ignored Pete for so long?

The TV was on. A commercial break began, and though neither of them was paying serious attention, they watched an announcement about a new medication for hair loss that was coming onto the market.

They saw a shaky cartoon of a frustrated, unhappy man, standing in front of his bathroom mirror, trying unsuccessfully to brush his hair, but it was coming out in clumps. It looked there was more hair stuck to the brush than was left on his head.

They heard a calm, soothing male voice, and relaxing, ambient music.

"Is your hair unruly and thinning? Is your comb or brush relentlessly choked with stringy clumps of hair every single morning? Is your shower drain constantly getting clogged, and have you ever had to call in the military to unblock it? Do you feel depressed, lonely, unattractive and worthless? Were you in college the last time you felt confident enough to try to pick up a chick at a bar? You failed that night, didn't you. Yeah, we all know. Everyone knows how much you suck at everything."

The character nodded. Sadly, this was all true. He looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His frown deepened, his shoulders slumped and he shed a tear.

The voiceover continued.

"Do you find it hard to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror? Do you wear a cap in public to hide your bald shame? Do people sneak up behind you in public to play your scalp like bongos? If you answered 'yes' to any of these questions, you could be one of millions of men who've completely forgotten what a warm, wet orifice feels like. Talk to your doctor about a revolutionary new medication called ImASadCunt."

The cartoon character on the screen began to smile as his mood began to rebound. There was hope. He stopped fighting with the hairbrush.

"Only your physician can prescribe ImASadCunt, but if you ask for a script only to find they're being a cranky pain in the ass about it, just remember you have rights under the second amendment. Under free-market capitalism, the customer is always right."

The cartoon character's face appeared deep in thought. Hair was quickly beginning to reappear.

"You have the freedom to change your life by taking this highly addictive new drug that will make our shareholders rich beyond their wildest fucking dreams. Talk to your doctor about ImASadCunt. Remember that name. It might not grow your hair back, and you might never pick a chick up at a bar ever again, but it's guaranteed to keep your bank account clean."

By the end of the commercial, the cartoon character had a full head of thick, luscious hair and a wide, satisfied smile on his face. He looked confident and optimistic. He turned to camera and spoke for the first time. "I used to be a sad cunt, but I'm not anymore!"

Carlos and Pete waited for their food to arrive. They each felt impatiently hungry.

The next commercial was completely unexpected and unanticipated. It grabbed their undivided attention and took their breath away.

The screen filled with dynamic close-up footage of a band rocking out on stage, just before the voiceover began. This time, the male voiceover was loud, manic and cajoling, almost screaming at the viewer.

"Are you into metal? Of course you are. Who the fuck isn't? Check out some of these sexy guys. Like, seriously, man, take a look at some of these dudes. Check out their leather boots, their tight denim jeans, their delicious nipples, their pouting, kissable mouths, and their loose, flailing hair. You wanna fuck 'em and suck 'em, don't you? You're jackin' off already, aren't you? Swallow Records proudly presents COCKS OUT, a touring festival featuring six up-and-coming American heavy metal bands who are about to conquer the known fuckin' world. Bring your lube, bring your toys, bring your holes, and most importantly, bring your hard, swollen penises, your full, sweaty balls, and your eager, hungry mouths! Fuck, dudes, check out this insane bill: Boipussy, Ass To Mouth, Beta Clinic, Femboy Hooters, Kuntlapper and Hypnosissy! If the names of these bands don't get you hard, maybe you're already dead! We're coming to Austin, Dallas, New Orleans, Atlanta, Miami and, if you can believe it, fuckin' New York City! Ticket price includes entry, plus all the beer you can chug. And in a world first, COCKS OUT features a mobile bate room. Jack off with other metalheads while the bands play, before getting your suck and fuck on. You're gonna get more than an eyeful, dudes. You're gonna get a mouthful, and if you're lucky, you might even get a boipussy full of sweaty, hot metalhead cock. Take it deep, and then go ass to mouth! Fuck, dudes, how many penises do you want? How much dick can you take? How much cock do you *need*? Get your COCKS OUT! This is a male-only event, and tickets go on sale online tomorrow. Fuckin' get hard!"