Her manager Corsica is pretty mad at Maaki, the guitarist, so she allows another woman to give “free run” on her as she's tied down to the bed. Enjoy! :D
“Why? You asked, and she didn't answer. “Why, Corsie?”
Without responding, you became upset. You didn't say anything until she tossed you what seemed like a key, which it was.
“She's upstairs, Joan.” Dark brown hair began to cover her silvery eyes, rosy lips and pink blushed cheeks. “I'm mad at her, so do whatever you want with her until I get back. Okay? ….okay.”
She just left with your bandmate, and you were all alone. You were mad for a second, but didn't bother to say anything because she was the most feared woman in music history. She wasn't nearly a best friend to Peter Grant for nothing.
It was all you, until you glared at the key Corsica hurled at you. While you stared at the small object, that's when you heard reticent, steady moans coming from the upstairs of the mansion-like home.
“Well, shit,” you thought. “She really is here!”
You just lay in a dark room, arms seemingly chained, as well as your legs. You try to break the chains, but during the mornings, you are more useless than a white crayon; the struggles that you've put up with your morning might make your wrists bleed, though you have that condition. The condition, the one that renders you unable to feel pain, heat, cold, the sensation of knowing you have to use the restroom, crying...what was that condition called?
Oh, yeah. That's right.
That dreaded disorder – that fucking disorder – wait. You lose your train of thought as you hear silent footsteps tread up the creaky staircase. Who is that coming up the stairs? You thought, tugging at the chains that bound you to the bed. Having no idea what the fuck is happening right now, you begin to think frantically....but then you believe that the person could possibly be your manager. Though, the front door did close, so...you don't know for sure.
You hear the person flick on the lights, so you begin to mutter words again. You could only see what was a lighter shade of black, and you looked around into the darkness.
“Mmm...Corsie, please unchain me, baby...” The person who happened to be there, in your room made no move, not emitting one word from their mouth. You begin to think that the person is not your dearest Corsica, but just to be certain, you'd end up saying her name again. “Please, someone...I know you're there; just please let me go! ….look, Corsica...I'm sorry I told you about my feelings for Joanie; I was drunk out of my mind! If it makes you better, then I have as much feelings for you as I do for her! I prom--”
“Why didn't you ever tell me?” You gasp as you heard the familiar, low and subtle voice...the voice that made you rage with sexual perversions and fantasies. You then realise that the woman was Joanie, not Corsica nor your sister, Ritzy. “After so long, you kept this all a secret...? Why?”
You felt pressure – about the only thing that you can feel. Turns out, Joanie was leaning onto your legs, holding on them as she gently kissed your neck and bit it.
“You didn't answer my question.” Joanie said to you, tracing her temperature-less fingers down your upper body and down to what was between your legs.
“Do you really wanna go on a hunt for kitties today, with me tied up like this?” You asked as you smirked, wishing for an answer that you hoped you could expect.
“Yes, I do.” She whispered in your ear, rubbing your clit as she moaned with a low growl in her voice. That drew you over the edge, but she just laughed as you tried to unbind yourself. Joanie noticed the blood on your wrists, so she licked it away, calmly and teasingly. “As punishment for not answering what I had asked, Maaki.”
Struggling as you are, you violently pull at the chains, wanting to touch her for all the right but wrong reasons. She had the key but she just didn't want to use it. Joanie stopped touching your vagina, then her hands reached for every part of you. Taking off all that you was wearing: a black bra and your black panties, you hoped for a good night....
You threw your head back in pleasure, the chains still restricting most of your movements cantankerously.
“Don't do that; the chains might break, honey.” She calmed you down, the touch of her fingertips roaming over your delicate, porcelain body with care and love. Underneath the blindfold you still looked up, wanting tears to come out of your eyes. For some reason, the way she touched you...wasn't bad; she just teased you. And you didn't know why. You begged her for mercy, just to let you go so that you could embrace her, but she still is stubborn, not obeying your semi-selfish commands.
“There's too many groupies who know about your sexual nature and how wild you are,” Joanie spoke to you, “I just wish to show you how good I am.”
She kissed your neck, bit it again and licked it. You just didn't know what to expect next; you can't see anything worth a damn and you obviously wanted to know desperately. So...you gulped your saliva hard, closed your shielded eyes and prayed that the best would eventually come.
So...what did you think? Should I continue, or just stop right here? I really liked working on this one; it's been in my head for months but I was too lazy to write/type it out. Oh, and if I get at least 50 views, then I will continue with this, since I'm already working on it. :P Thank you for reading this and have a good day! :D