The Groupie - InkSpot.Com

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The Groupie

As I walked backstage, pure adrenaline pumped through my veins. Nothing was more exhilarating than a capacity crowd hanging on my every word. It wasn't long ago that I was playing dive bars and local clubs. A couple hit songs later, and I'm headlining summer concerts across the country.

It was awesome.

And now for my favorite part. Security led me backstage to where I'd have my pick of groupies. Nothing topped off a concert like banging some slutty chick that has a thing for musicians and wants a brush with celebrity.

Tonight's selection wasn't the best. In fact, I was hard pressed to find anyone that I felt was worthy... until I saw her. She was magnificent. Long, slender legs that curved upwards into a perfect hourglass figure. Her tight ass was poured into a pair of leather pants, and her large breasts were barely contained by her form-fitting T-shirt.

I nodded to security, who ushered her under the ropes. I absently signed a few autographs, more concerned with all the things I was going to do to this exquisite beauty once we got back to the bus.

As we left the venue, she pulled me in for a kiss. As I jammed my tongue down her throat, I felt a prick in the back of my neck, followed by a sense of weightlessness... and then darkness.

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I woke up in a haze. I seemed to be in some kind of basement, bathed in cold, fluorescent blue light. The room was filled with surgical implements and strange equipment. A heavy curtain was drawn across the far end of the room.

My wrists and ankles felt cold and heavy. I tried to move them, but it was useless. I struggled to lift my head and get a better look, noting the thick chains that bound me to the cold steel table upon which I was laying.

I heard a lock disengage and a door open somewhere behind me. Heels clicked ominously on the stone floor as someone approached.

It was the groupie from earlier.

"What do you... want... with me?"

I could barely speak; my tongue felt like lead in my mouth.

"I love you," she replied, going behind the curtain and retrieving what appeared to be a mannequin of sorts. "I want us to be together."

She set up the mannequin next to me and rolled a tray of surgical implements closer. She picked up a large scalpel and considered it.

"Wait," I protested, summoning every ounce of strength I had. "Just let me go. I won't tell anybody."

"Why would I want to do that, silly?" She asked as she plunged the scalpel into my inner thigh, dragging it down toward my knee.

The pain knocked the wind out of me and an anguished scream died in my throat as I felt her slice me open, methodically scraping the scalpel around my knee, lacerating my skin with ease.

"I want us to be together, remember?"

She continued her work intently, my amplifying screams falling on deaf ears as she carefully severed and detached the entire length of skin between my hip and my knee in one flat piece, which she then proceeded to adhere to its corresponding place on the mannequin.

"Why are you doing this?" I cried, my eyes searching for some humanity in hers. Insanity was all that gazed back.

"Because my boyfriends always leave me," she complained, a frown creasing her brow. "It's just easier this way."

Suddenly, she brightened.

"Do you want to meet them?"

Before I could reply, she rushed over to the curtain, pulling it back excitedly. I choked back a scream as she revealed several men, each mounted like a hunting trophy, their vacant glass eyes and crudely stitched skin grafts giving me a glimpse into my future.

I screamed even louder as the young taxidermist continued to strip the flesh from my body and transfer it to the mannequin.

Death couldn't come soon enough.

(666 words)

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