Idol Worship
The woman on stage sounded raspy, her voice overworked
by a night of preforming but the black haired woman
seemed unwilling to give in. Sweat streaming down her
handsome face the leather clad woman threw her all
into the final act, her jacket flapping dramatically
as she grasped the microphone.
"His daddy taught him well,
Used a gun and gave 'em Hell
She worked the streets for years,
Now watch her blood flow like tears!"
We're all dying for the American scream,
Dying for the American dream
We're all dying for the American scream,
Dying for the American dream!"
It wasn't the best song...the lines limped a bit, and
her sore throat didn't help, but she gave it a certain
something. Wiping the sweat away a final time she
wished everyone farewell, then stalked off the stage
with pride.
"Miss Alexander," the student reporter smiled
nervously at the singer a short time later, "thank you
so much for seeing me." Her long red hair fell around
her shoulders, her clothes elegant but simple, and her
eyes shone with excitement.
Connie Alexander sat back on the battered couch in the
performers waiting room in the back of the club, her
plain brown eyes amused. "You were certainly
persistent," she said dryly, "Miss Bailey."
"You can just call me Linda," the reported blushed,
her fair skin making the redness even more visible.
She looked away, "I'm sorry if I was pushy, it's
just...."
"My agent was rather impressed by you, Linda," Connie
admitted, her eyes now looking just a bit amused. "I
don't think I would have agreed otherwise," she added,
the t-shirt clad woman reaching for a water bottle,
the black cloth clinging to her body.
Linda found her eyes going to the small but well
shaped breasts outlined by the black cloth and
blushed, feeling a flash of a strange sort of heat
inside her. Clearing her suddenly tight throat she
said, "So, how did you start out as a musician?"
"High school," Connie said agreeably, "I was part of
the school band." A grin, "I hated it, but...I still
found something I could connect to."
"I understand you've been in a few bands, too," Linda
said, feeling her gaze being trapped by Connie's
lovely eyes.
"Garage bands," Connie smiled, "we tended to form and
break up pretty regularly, But it was during those
days I met most of the members in my current band."
Linda looked away from those eyes, feeling her heart
racing. It had almost felt as if she was falling into
Connie's seductive gaze... "Now, you write most of the
lyrics, correct?" she asked a bit clumsily.
Connie seemed faintly amused by Linda's discomfort,
her expression almost cat-like as she studied Linda.
"Most of them," she acknowledged, "though the guys in
the band also help brainstorm with me."
"Have you ever come up with something they hated?"
Linda gulped. There was a subtle scent to her that
tickled Linda's nose, her breath coming a bit faster.
"Occasionally," Connie acknowledged, "I once compared
PMS to world leaders.. Mac thought that was a bit
much."
"I can imagine," Linda blinked.
"Though Bush as a tampon they kinda liked," Connie
chuckled, her voice seeming to caress Linda's ears.
Linda swallowed past a tightness in her throat. "You
deal with politics and controversial issues often,"
she croaked a bit.
"Excuse me," Connie rose, stretching comfortably. Her
slim body was almost exposed by the tightness of her
jeans, the muscles of her tight body moving beneath
her clothes. She took a step them flopped down in the
chair beside Linda, grinning.
"Wha..what?" Linda squeaked.
Connie reached out to touch Linda's shoulder, her
fingers lingering on warm flesh. "This is much more
comfortable, hmm?" she purred.
"Ah, I..." Linda stammered, her heart pounding.
"Now," Connie crossed one long, graceful leg over the
other, "where were we?"
Linda almost felt feverish. "Your songs," she managed
weakly.
"I look at what's going on in the world," Connie
reached out to toy with the ends of Linda's hair,
"reflect it in a twisted mirror then write what I
see."
"That's very eloquent," Linda said, tilting her head
unthinkingly towards her touch.
"And did you like my show?" Connie breathed into her
ear.
Linda shuddered, a soft moan as Connie reached out to
stroke her skin. "Yes," she managed weakly.
"Then that's good enough, pretty lady," Connie smiled.
She leaned back, her gesture unconsciously sexy,
"That's all I want my performances to do."
"You succeeded," Linda said with a bit of a slur, not
even fully registering Connie's compliments. Since
coming into the room she had felt cloudy, confused,
and it was getting worse and worse.
"I wonder," Connie reached out to stroke Linda's
cheek, "has it been long enough?"
"L'ng 'nou'ht f'r wh't?" Linda tried to answer, a odd
weakness spreading through her whole body.
Connie chuckled, "Poor thing, having troubles are we?"
She leaned in even closer, pushing Linda back so that
she was partially laying on the dazed young woman.
"Wha..." Linda fought to say.
"Do you know what a Banshee is?" Connie asked,
breathing into Linda's ear and causing her to moan
weakly. "The stories are all bullshit," she slid a
hand down to massage the younger woman's breast, "but
they did get one thing right...the power of our
voices."
Linda moaned as her neck was nibbled on sweetly, her
clouded mind barely registering what the other woman
was saying. Her clothes were being tugged out of
place, her shirt and pants pulled aside...then finally
off.
"The manager sent me a photo of you," Connie moved to
gently suck on a cloth covered breast, "but when I saw
you in the crowd I knew you were perfect. So I
directed my song to you, precious one."
Weakly Linda tried to move as Connie snuggled closer,
their bodies fitting together eerily well. They made a
erotic sight there on the little couch, Linda mostly
nude on her back while Connie loomed possessively over
her.
"First I drew you in with my song," Connie purred into
Linda's ear, "then once you came in here I've been
secreting pheromones... you're now my little puppet,
to do with as I wish." Hot kisses slid down Linda's
sweet chest to her belly, then to her panty covered
mound, "And what I want... is this."
Even in her dazed state Linda could feel her panties
drawn down, then a wet kiss right on her cleft. Part
of her wanted to move her arms to push Connie away,
but another wanted to draw Connie close for more of
these incredible sensations.
"So sweet," Connie blew softly on soaked flesh and
grinned, seeing Linda's little clit visibly twitch.
She lapped around tenderly, teasing excited flesh then
began to feast on all the lovely juice her lover could
produce.
Nearly a full hour later Connie emerged to find her
friend and bandmate Mac looking at her wryly. The tall
black haired man looked faintly embarrassed as he
asked, "So, is she going to be all right?"
Licking her lips to capture the last bit of flavor
Connie chuckled, "She'll be fine, Mac. She'll wake up
in a few hours with no memory of what happened and
something very like a hang over from my pheromones
wearing off."
"I still can't believe you feed off of...." Mac
trailed off uncomfortably.
"The fluids released by a woman's orgasm?" Connie
smiled, enjoying seeing him blush. "Trust me," she
said as she went ahead, "you don't know what you're
missing."
End
Notes: Set in my Blood Sex & Magic/Descent/Daughters
of Artemis world, and I may have Connie turn up again
later. My apologies for "American Scream" but I didn't
want to copy music into a original fic...
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