tagCelebrities & Fan FictionThe Ballad of the Dancing Bard

The Ballad of the Dancing Bard

byRiversEdge2010©

YouTube sensation Lindsey Stirling falls for an unlikely fan...

Author's Note: This fan-fiction is a work of fiction (obviously). It is about YouTube sensation and hip-hop violinist Lindsey Stirling. It is a very sexually explicit story. If reading such a story may offend you, please stop reading now! Otherwise, feel free to leave me a comment afterward letting me know what you thought about the story. I am always appreciative of udder/reader feedback! Thanks for reading! So without further adieu, may I present to you...


The Ballad of the Dancing Bard

The sun had just set and Nick was standing on the balcony overlooking downtown Pittsburgh from Mount Washington, the cityscape already illuminated for the long night ahead. It was a hot summer night, and muggy too, Nick thought. Probably why I'm sweating so much, he figured. At least that's what he kept telling himself anyway, his heart racing inside his chest. Nick's heart always raced like this before a big job, not that his jobs were big, but they were the kind that landed you in jail if you got caught nonetheless. He wasn't exactly a high-end art thief, but his clientele were rich and paid well for his particular skill set: that was, lifting rock and roll merchandise for the parents of spoiled fans, or rich collectors who got off on having illegal merchandise in their collection. Nick had even jacked from Hard Rock Café's personal collection.

He was a good-looking kid from the suburbs, only nineteen-years-old, but that suburban childhood all the other kids had never resembled his own story. His parents died in a car accident when he was a little kid, not that he wanted anyone to feel sorry for him or anything. He figured out a way to make ends meet very early on, slipping in and out of the shadows, buying and selling what didn't belong to him so he could make his own way before most kids had even made it prom. Now, Nick was riding his bike down to the concert hall downtown, a line of hipsters lined around the block to see the YouTube sensation and hip-hop violinist Lindsey Stirling. Lifting during a concert was always easy, Nick thought. It was always easier to disappear into a crowd and security was sparse in comparison to the amount of attendees.

He snuck in at the tail end of the show, hoping to disappear into the confusion of the crowd by the time they were drunkenly dispersing into the streets. The item in question today for Nick was a rare photo-print of Janis Joplin being showcased with a rare collection on display in the concert hall's main auditorium, off the main hall. It was easy, and he had almost made it out of the hall after grabbing it off of the wall and slipping into a carrying case without anyone noticing the theft. But it all went south after that, when he ran into an unexpected problem around the corner: someone had seen him carrying it under his arm, some disgruntled employee of the concert hall, Nick figured.

"Hey, what are you doing with that? Stop! Security!" she yelled out over his shoulder.

Nick took off, down the hall, bursting trough a doorway and sliding down a rickety railing in a filthy stairwell toward the basement. He was going to head down the hall, around the corner toward another stairwell, but saw the crawl-space closet beneath the stairs just in time. Without any real thought put into the decision, he threw himself into it just before hearing heavy footsteps rushing down the stairs right over his head, then heading further down the hallway. It wouldn't be long before security realized their mistake, though, he realized while trying to control his breathing.

"He must have gone outside, come on!" he heard a muffled voice say.

More muffled voices called out down the hall in response followed by more hurried footsteps.

"Come on!" he heard another voice say.

Nick couldn't hear anything else after that outside the sound of his own heart beating and the adrenaline rushing past his ears. He had to think fast, the cramped, dark, musty space causing an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia to set in suddenly. Taking out his phone, he opened the flashlight app and illuminated a dusty crawl space covered in cobwebs, spider-webs, and molding boxes filled with old, antiquated audio equipment. He was trapped in there until someone opened that door.

"Shit," he breathed.

And that's when he saw the unlikely the door lurking behind it all, hidden behind the boxes and old equipment. Awkwardly repositioning himself and crawling on his belly, Nick maneuvered toward it around the boxes. He pulled it open, seeing nothing but darkness lurking beyond, a cool, welcome summer draft rushing up into the crawlspace.

"Oh man..." he complained, hearing critters scurrying into the darkness, their eyes reflecting off the light from his phone that he used to illuminate the blackness beyond.

Sighing heavily, Nick slipped into the black crawl space hidden beneath the building of the concert hall. It was the kind of thing you discovered beneath a house as a kid, somewhere nobody would ever follow or find you during hide & seek. Jesus, I'm going to find a dead body down here... or I'm going to die down here and turn into one, Nick thought as he slithered through the black. It was wet; he was crawling in mud, past cement columns supporting the club. Nick felt like he was crawling deep beneath the Earth in a Jules Verne novel, searching for any semblance of a means of escape.

He heard more footsteps rushing over the floor above him followed by more muffled voices shouting. He just needed a way out, he thought. Anything, anywhere, come on, he thought, looking around. That's when he saw it: a trap door in the floor a distance ahead of him beneath a tight rise in the ground where he had to squeeze his body awkwardly through, barely making it out the other end. The lock had rusted through, and he was able to yank it off without incident. Smiling, Nick turned the handle and pushed up.

The room he peaked into was dark and still. He was looking around in some kind of changing room in the basement. It looked like the green room; there was a couch, some old furniture, and the sound of music playing, but it was in another room. This room, he decided, was unoccupied. He climbed up through the trap door and pulled himself into the room, brushing the mud, dust, and cobwebs away from his clothes as best he could. He checked the photo in its carrying case worried he had damaged it.

It was fine, he saw, exhaling with relief.

Now, how to get out of this building without anyone seeing me, he thought, looking around.

There was a window at the top of the wall, which Nick checked; it led out to an alleyway, to a hotel's service entrance he could slip through if he really tried to get inspire. The sounds of sirens brought him back and reminded him that he was racing a clock. Nick awkwardly climbed onto a dusty desk and opened the window, horrified to find the window only opened halfway. He had to act quickly, or he'd be caught.

And that's when he heard a door next to him unlocking, the topless, pixie girl stepping through drying her hair from the shower causing his heart to stop... it was Lindsey Stirling.

-

Lindsey Stirling had just finished an hour and a half set on stage with her first hit "Crystalize", which had garnered almost 120 million views on YouTube. She was smack in the middle of her U.S. "Music Box" Tour, about ready to enjoy a well-earned day off before having to rush up to Cleveland to play Jacobs Pavilion at Natuica the following day. All she wanted to do was strip out of her outfit and relax under a hot shower. So, after bowing to her fans, the 28 year-old California-native YouTube sensation immediately rushed backstage to meet with her fan club members to rush through pictures and autographs. She'd have a few minutes to jump in the shower and change before getting back on the tour bus, she thought, as she said goodbye to her fans and excused herself from her bandmates Drew and Gavi. There'd be a shower at the hotel, Lindsey knew, but showering in the changing rooms at the concert halls always made her feel much more like a rockstar than she did showering at the hotels.

Plus, it made her feel much sexier too.

"Wheels up in twenty," Gavi told her, pointing to his watch, knowing Lindsey's pension for sometimes running a little behind schedule when jumping in the shower.

"I'll be quick!" she said, excited, rushing down the stairs backstage to her changing room.

She couldn't wait to strip out of her elaborate, albeit uncomfortable wardrobe, and soak her naked body in the spacious, walk-in shower the size of her old girls-only dorm room back at BYU in Provo, a heavily Mormon populated city about an hour south of Salt Lake City. There was something about a shower you could lie down in, she thought, making her way down to the old, abandoned greenroom in the basement that the crew had let her use so that she could have her privacy.

Shutting the door behind her, Lindsey started to tear away the outer layer of her garments, none of them coming off fast enough. But then someone began rapping at her door. Annoyed, Lindsey got up and opened the door, expecting to see one of her crewmembers or friends huffing about the time. Instead, she came face-to-face with a large security guard she recognized from the show, intimidated by his gargantuan stature.

"Oh... hi there!" she said, smiling, pulling her hair behind her ears nervously, confused.

"Hi there, ma'am. I don't mean to disturb you. Just wanted to let you know we had a theft a few minutes ago and that the young man who did it is somewhere in the building. Are you all right in there? Is anyone with you?" he asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Uh, yeah... I mean, no... it's just me down here," Lindsey said, her heart racing at the thought.

Maybe she should wait to shower at the hotel, she considered, biting her lip nervously.

Then, she heard a voice come over the guard's radio.

"Frank, we think he went outside. Already swept the ground floor. Cops just got here," they said, the voice crackling before the line cut out and the guard responded.

"All clear in the basement. I'm on my way up," he said, excusing himself.

Relieved, Lindsey shrugged and turned back to the room, this time making sure to lock her door, which she suddenly realized she hadn't done before. She turned back to the shower room and slipped inside while peeling off this garment and that. When she finally came down to her Mormon garments, pulling them off of her nakedness, Lindsey walked over to a pair of portable speakers she carried with her at all times and started one of her favorite mellowing-out playlists she had loaded on her phone.

Stepping over the small threshold into the large shower room, naked as the day she was born, Lindsey Stirling turned the head on and lost herself to the alleviating sensation of piping hot water splashing down on her exhausted, naked skin. It invigorated her in the most sensual ways to stand there in a foreign room, naked, letting the water hit her body. The vapor wrapped itself around her body and hugged it, embracing her almost in a spiritual way, stirring the most arousing thoughts from her.

She had struggled with her body image for a long time, eventually writing about her struggles and handing off the vocal responsibilities for the song to Lzzy Hale from Halestorm. The song became the title track from her sophomore album "Shatter Me". But Lindsey eventually came to fall in love with her body, a therapist of hers she was seeing back in Arizona telling her to actually engage in the forbidden art of masturbation, a strict no-no according to many of the leaders in her Mormon ward. But since her therapist had also been a Mormon, and a sex-therapist to boot, Lindsey decided she'd have to give her the benefit of the doubt and that she was in the clear spiritually.

"Oh," she whimpered, her fingertips dragging artfully over her soft skin, over the forbidden place.

It had made her feel naughty, and somewhat dirty at first when she started doing it. But overtime, after coming to discover her raw sensuality, the transcendent beauty of her own body and the unimaginable power of her own orgasm and inner goddess, Lindsey learned to love her body in a new way she never had before. Downloading with her therapist back in Arizona had always made her feel somewhat ashamed, at first, but she always made her feel at ease while talking about some of her more taboo thoughts and fantasies. On tour, especially on the bus, Lindsey hardly had the privacy to masturbate, which was why she enjoyed empty changing rooms and showers.

Knocking at the door brought her back to Earth.

"Lindsey! You ready?" she heard Gavi asking on the other side of the door outside.

"Oh, uh... yeah! Be out in five, Gavi!" she shouted back, shriveling up and suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Her orgasm would have to wait for the hotel, she realized, shutting the shower off and toweling off. Slipping back into her panties, and her favorite pair of yoga pants, Lindsey Stirling strutted back into the main changing room where she had left her shirt. When she suddenly realized she wasn't alone in the room, and that someone had just seen her naked from the waist on up, Lindsey nearly screamed out loud.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked, attempting to cover her supple breasts from the young boy, covered in mud and cobwebs sweating above her on the ledge beneath the window.

"I..." he began, eyes wide, suddenly turning his head and blushing dramatically.

"What are you doing in here? Get down from there! Turn around" she demanded, reaching for her shirt on the old couch and nervously slipping into it when the boy had obliged and turned around for her modesty's sake, her heart racing.

"I'm sorry. I was just... inspecting the hinges. I'm an employee here," he lied quickly.

She noticed the carrying case in his hand and knew he was lying to her immediately.

"Then what's that in your hand!" Lindsey demanded, the kid turning back and seeing that she was wearing a shirt again, her erect nipples poking out of the soft cotton material of her dampening, dark t-shirt.

It was one of the most erotic things Nick had ever seen in his entire life, he realized. She looked like the most beautiful woman in the entire world right then, he decided, like a sexual fairy or a sexual goddess cowering nervously before him with erect nipples.

"Don't turn around, I'm not wearing a bra!" she shouted.

"I'm sorry!" he said, turning back.

"You're that thief they were talking about. Don't go anywhere. I'm getting security!"

"No, please don't!" Nick shouted, his heart racing from the topless image of Lindsey Stirling permanently engrained into his already filthy subconscious burning in his mind's eye.

"Here, take it back, I don't care... I'm sorry! I just... I need the money, okay?" he huffed, handing Lindsey the carrying case with the photo in it, Lindsey staring at it, confused.

"I... you can't steal things to get money. It's wrong... and worse, it's illegal!" Lindsey huffed, feeling flush from walking in on the young kid topless, getting even angrier with him that he saw her breasts because he was breaking the law in the first place.

He looked young, but was cute with moppy, black hair and piercing blue eyes. Sure, he was filthy, but maybe she just wasn't thinking straight, she had decided, wondering why her body was going into overdrive just at the thought of this young kid seeing her topless.

"I... know. I'm sorry. I'll go," he added, Lindsey awkwardly taking the carrying case from him as he climbed back up to the window and forced it open all the way, breaking the hinges.

"Wait..." Lindsey said, confused and shocked.

"I'm sorry..." Nick said, pulling himself up. "I just need the money to turn the power back on," he added.

That part broke Lindsey's heart.

"Well... wait! The power? Hey... wait! Look, if you need the money... I can give you some. Please... don't go! I won't get you in trouble. Just tell me what's wrong. You don't have to live like this!" Lindsey said, gesturing toward the photo in her hand, not knowing what it even was or why it would be worth any money to anyone.

"No, it's okay!" he said.

"Look! I'm at the Marriot tonight. Please... let me help you out. They put me up there, but I have the tour bus. You can stay in my room... instead of me, okay? Just... don't go, okay?" Lindsey begged, feeling strangely responsible and drawn to the boy.

"Not a chance," he said, slipping through the window finally, wiggling his legs through like a worm and turning back to the dancing bard left standing in the basement both confused, shocked, and embarrassed at the walk-in incident a moment ago.

"You have beautiful breasts by the way," he said before darting off into the alley, making Lindsey reach her hands up to them, shocked by his bold, forward compliment.

Lindsey finally exhaled, not realizing that she had been holding her breath the whole time basically. Tracking down the building manager, Lindsey lied and told him that she found the carrying case on the floor outside her changing room. They thanked her for her help and Lindsey felt sick for lying, but even more sick that the boy was still out there somewhere. Pittsburgh was no place to be alone, she thought, especially if he was hurting. He needed to turn the power on, she wondered? How awful.

Lindsey called the Marriot and told them that a friend of hers was in town and that he could check into the hotel room whenever he wanted. It wasn't safe, but he wasn't a bad person, she could tell. He was just scared. When the front desk attendant asked what her friend's name was, she hung up. Checking the time, Lindsey cursed under her breath and rushed outside to meet up with Drew and Gavi on the bus. She excused her absence and told them the same lie about finding the stolen case.

When she got to the Marriot, Lindsey checked into the room and waited. Finally, she went downstairs to the restaurant to grab a light dinner. When she went to talk to the front desk manager to help make sure that her room was to be given to this boy, she had to caught her off mid-sentence and explain to her that he had already been by to pick up his key. Her heart raced for different reasons. Was this safe? Should she call someone, she wondered? As she approached her room on one of the top floors, Lindsey Stirling swallowed nervously and knocked on the door. A few moments later, the door opened the scared kid covered in mud was standing between her and the room, staring back at her anxiously, like a cornered puppy or injured animal.

"You came..." she said, nervously.

"It's not like I don't have a place to stay. It's just... the landlord shut my power off so... no air conditioning on a night like tonight," he said, shrugging and shaking his head.

"Of course. I just need to wash up. Can I come into my room?" Lindsey asked.

"Oh... of course! It's your room as well..."

"Thanks," Lindsey said.

Nick closed the door behind her; Lindsey's heart fluttering again at the thought of being behind closed doors with a stranger that she hardly knew. Why did she feel this way for this kid, she asked herself over and over? She wasn't prone to crushes.

They made small talk for a few minutes about Pittsburgh and the concert, until the kid finally blurted out from behind the counter, "I hope I didn't offend you earlier".

"Oh... it's... don't worry about it. It's nothing to be offended by. You didn't mean to walk in on me... well, technically... I walked in on you," Lindsey corrected over the sink.

"I meant about the thing I said..." Nick, corrected, blushing before Lindsey, always having had a huge crush on her since first seeing her perform in the music videos for "Elements", "Spontaneous Me", and "Crystalize" on YouTube some years back.

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byRiversEdge2010© 5 comments/ 12448 views/ 23 favorites

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