A Command Performance

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Ass

I was in NYC; I had just finished the first leg of my third tour promoting my new album, when I was woken up from an alcohol-induced sleep by a call from my manager.

“Hey good news!” Russ chortled into the phone. I glanced at the clock and groaned for two reasons. One it was only 7am and I had just passed out, err, fallen asleep at 4am, and his “good news” rarely was.

I mumbled, “What’s the good news?”

“I got a call from a really wealthy business man in upstate New York, he wants to book you for a private show tonight.” Before I could protest that I was supposed to have the next few days off, he came back with, “he offered $500,000 for a two hour show. He’ll send a private plane for you, and he has the cash in hand. What say you boyo?”

I sat up in bed and lit a cigarette; “I’ll have to run it past the band…”

“No, no. He doesn’t want the whole band, just you. Acoustic set, unplugged and all that sort of stuff.” Russ lowered his voice; “he offered me a $25,000 booking fee up front if I can talk you into this. I can use the money; my ex is bleeding me dry. Be a good lad and say yes.”

I was torn, I really needed a day off, but the money was tempting as hell, and I knew that Russ’ ex-wife had taken advantage of no pre-nup to really run him through the financial wringer. I owed him a lot; he signed me when no one else had believed in me.

“OK, when am I supposed to leave?”

“You’ll do it?” Russ sighed in relief, “Thank you so much, you don’t know how much I appreciate this!” He sounded a bit choked up, then his business voice came back, “He said to be downstairs at 9am, they’ll be a limo waiting to take you to the airport. He said he has all the equipment you need, just bring your guitar.”

I started the complimentary coffee pot, hopped into the shower and made myself as presentable as I would ever be.

As promised a black limo was waiting for me at the curb, the driver wordlessly opened the door, took my guitar placing it in the boot and we drove in complete silence to the airport, which suited my still muddled head just fine.

Once we arrived at the waiting plane, the driver repeated his less than chatty ways, and pointed at a Lear Jet off to one side of the tarmac, and before I could say anything, he grabbed my guitar and my arm and took us both to the plane. He half shoved me into a seat and put my guitar in the overhead. Then walked to the back of the plane strapped in and closed his eyes.

I was still puzzling over this bizarre welcoming committee when a truly gorgeous blonde, dressed in a fire red leather jumpsuit came up to me, “Welcome. I’m Cindy; I’m going to be your hostess until we land. What can I get you?”

I smiled suppressing the urge to say, “You would do nicely.” Instead I asked for a rum and coke. I was pleasantly distracted watching her move to the back of the plane to get my drink as the plane taxied to the runway.

A couple of rum and cokes later my lack of sleep caught up with me, and I dozed off. I woke up some time later to Cindy gently shaking me awake, “We’re here. It’s time to get up.”

Another limo awaited me at the bottom of the plane’s steps and Mr. Sunshine was again my driver. I was feeling a lot more rested and attempted to strike up a conversation, “So where are we exactly?” I asked.

Nothing.

I tapped on the back of his headrest, “Excuse me, um where are we? Hello? Do you speak English? Are you deaf? HELLO?”

He canlı bahis replied by closing the partition between us almost catching my hand in it as it shot closed.

All right, fine. I thought. I lit up a cigarette and decided to open the window to get some air. The window buttons didn’t seem to work and neither did the door locks. I didn’t think anything about it at the time; I just shrugged and figured if the driver was offended he’d roll them down.

After about an hour we seemed to arrive at our destination. The limo stopped in front of what I could only describe as the ugliest hunk of architecture I had ever seen. I’m from England and I’ve seen castles before, but this place was a castle on steroids. It had every cliché known to man and a few previously undiscovered. Turrets and towers poked out of strange roof angles. I stifled a laugh and caught up with the driver as he raced to the house with my guitar in his hand.

The inside was a lot nicer to look at than the outside. Everything was done in muted reds and blacks with the occasional touch of white. I am not a tall man in the least, and I felt dwarfed by the huge staircase with the large stained glass windows. The limo driver set my guitar down at my feet and whirled on me.

He undid my jacket and stuck his hands into the pockets of my jeans and started patting me down, “HEY!” I protested trying to escape this violation of my privacy, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry.” He grunted, as he pulled my tshirt forward reached into it and yanked my necklace from my neck, snapping the leather cord, “your host is allergic to some metals and you can’t wear this.” He let me go and threw open my guitar case.

“You could have just asked me to take it off!” I snapped, “You really have to work on your people skills asshole. Go easy on that!” I said as he picked up the guitar turned it upside down and shook it. He snapped the case shut and shoved it into my hands, and skulked off.

I was just dialing my manager on my mobile to tell him the deal was off and to get me the hell out of here when this impressive older man dressed in an old fashioned smoking jacket and black velvet trousers greeted me, “Welcome!” he took my hand in his and firmly shook it, “I trust you had a pleasant journey.”

“Aside from the ray of sunshine who just man-handled me, yeah.”

“I’m sorry about that. He only has my best interests at heart but is limited in his social graces.” He chuckled deep in his chest, and then put his arm around me. I usually don’t welcome instant intimacy with people I’ve just met but there was something in his manner that made me completely at ease. “We’re about to have dinner, you are the guest of honour, please come this way.”

“So, what’s the occasion? Is this a party for your daughter or something?” I asked.

He found that question really funny for some reason, after a few moments he stopped laughing, “No, I have no daughter. This is a party for a few special friends. We are having a celebration of sorts.” He opened the door to the dining room, a huge table dominated the space with a warm fire burning in a small fireplace off to the left side, “I am the one who is a fan of yours.”

He pulled the chair out at the head of the table and gestured for me to sit, poured me a glass of wine and took my guitar from me putting it on a chair by the fire.

“I’ll go get the rest of the guests” and with that he left me alone in the room.

I took bahis siteleri the opportunity to get up and explore my surroundings. The room had no windows, and really no artwork either. The floors were obviously top quality marble and the table was set with expensive china. The odd thing was that instead of silverware all the utensils were carved out of some sort of polished white stone. I heard approaching footsteps and quickly sat back down.

The other guests included Cindy, from the airplane, and a collection of men from my age on up to what appeared to be older than dirt. Cindy sat next to me and the men took their places around the table. My host sat on the opposite end of the table from me and signalled for the food to be served.

I barely drained my glass before it was topped off with more wine, I wasn’t really hungry so I made only a half hearted attempt at eating, I didn’t feel too badly because it seemed I wasn’t the only one doing it, no one seemed very hungry accept Cindy who wolfed her food down like she thought someone was going to whip her plate away any minute.

The wine flowed at everyone’s place though, it was a gorgeous ruby red in the light of the fire but I wanted to be at least marginally sober for my performance so I switched to water after a while.

After dinner, I was shown to a ballroom on the second floor. I unpacked my guitar and plugged it in. I was really impressed with the calibre of equipment on the small stage. The amps were top notch; there was a grand piano and a professional grade light panel.

One of the dinner guests took his seat at the soundboard and we did some songs to get the levels down. He really seemed to know what he was doing, and I started to feel that thrill I get before going onstage even in this set of odd circumstances.

My host came in, handed me a small satchel, and said he’d like to start in ten minutes. After he left I snuck a look into the bag and discovered it was full of cash, my payment for this show. I wasn’t used to seeing all those bills in one place it was pretty impressive.

The room started to fill up a few minutes later. Again the only woman in the group was Cindy the bulk of the rest were men. Some in them were in their 60s to I’d guess 80s with a mix of young boys and men my age or younger. She had changed into a bright red dress that clung to her every curve. I hoped she would come closer to the stage to provide me with some inspiration.

I started the show off with one of the more rock songs off of my album; I glanced out at the crowd and by the looks on their faces they were more used to Perry Como or something because most of them had a deer in the headlight look.

The next song was a slower love ballad; this one got the men paired up with partners and slow dancing with each other. This didn’t particularly register with me, until some of the men began to make out right in front of the stage. I tried to keep my mind focused on the song when one of them leaned into his partner’s neck and started to give him what I guessed would be one hell of a love mark. They moved a bit to the side of the stage and got into a stronger make out session, laying in a writhing heap as I started into my third song.

I decided to go with another slow song, only to have this scene repeat all around the stage. Every man had partnered with another, usually younger man, and it was beginning to look like I was there to provide the sound track to an orgy.

At bahis şirketleri this point I could have played “Old MacDonald” and no one but my host, Cindy and me would have noticed. They sat at a table just off to my right, ignoring the others and staring right at me. I looked over at them and shrugged trying not to laugh. The light caught my host’s eyes in a strange way causing them to glow red. I looked away, shook my head to clear the image and looked back. I put it down as an optical illusion because when I looked back his eyes were normal.

Cindy inched closed to the stage and reached up and touched me on the leg. I started the next song and moved a bit out of her reach, trying to not get distracted. She took this as a challenge and climbed up on the stage next to me and started dancing very suggestively next to me.

When that failed to get my attention she started to pull on the guitar cord and got between the microphone and me. I stopped playing and looked for my host. I didn’t have far to look, as he was right behind me. He reached over and turned off the amplifier as Cindy undid the strap on my guitar and set it up against the side of the stage.

“Um, what’s going on here?” I asked.

He put his arm around my waist pulled me to him, he was easily half a head taller than me and I had to crane my neck to look him in the face. This time I knew it wasn’t the light because his eyes were indeed bright red. I couldn’t take my eyes from his I felt powerless as he bent down to give me a kiss.

Cindy crawled between us and undid my belt, unzipped my jeans and took my cock into her hands. I was still locked in a kiss with my host when her mouth found me.

I seemed to lose all will of my own. I know my host wasn’t talking, as his tongue was in my mouth, but I could hear his voice as clear as day telling me to relax and let him do whatever he wanted. And I did.

He pushed Cindy away from me and laid me down on the stage. My eyes were still held to his and his hands tore off my shirt he bent his head to my neck. I felt a sharp pain as he sunk his teeth into the flesh where my neck met my shoulder. I cried out as he latched onto the wound and began to drink of me. I found a reserve of strength and tried to push him away but he held me down like I was a small child.

His mouth didn’t leave my throat as he finished stripping off my clothes, and then he lifted my hips. I felt his cock pressing against me and in one fluid movement he entered me completely.

He rocked in and out of me as the room started to spin. I could only manage to hold on to the floor for dear life as the spinning increased and the room grew darker around me. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was my heart pounding so hard I thought it would leap right out of my chest.

I woke up as the phone was ringing. It took me a moment to realise I was back at the hotel in NYC. I glanced at the clock before answering and it was just past 8. AM or PM I wondered? “Hello?”

“Good morning sleepy head!” chirped Russ, “Thanks again boyo, I got my commission and a nice little bonus from that business man you played for last night. Looks like you knocked them dead out there.”

That phrased seemed really important to me for some reason but I couldn’t quite figure out why. I hung up with Russ after a few minutes and got out of bed. My necklace was laying on the bed stand, the leather cord repaired, I picked it up to put it back on but got a strange burning sensation when I touched the pendant.

The light from the windows hurt my eyes; I must have had a lot more to drink than I thought I mused. I shut the drapes and got ready to face the day.

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