[draft] Encore

Encore

Note – contains sex under false pretenses which is otherwise consentual. YMMV whether that qualifies as rape/noncon. Also contains sex with a minor. Read at your own discretion.

It's 2005 and you've been invited backstage. You have no idea how the hell this happened.

You've never been to a concert before so you didn't really know what to expect. Murdoc spent half the concert with his tongue hanging out like gene simmons impersonating a hyena. 2D clutching the microphone stand like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to the real world. Russel the more poised and somposed person on stage. And of course Noodle, hooping around like an energetic child wearing that same impossible tight white outfit from the DARE music video. The crowd loved her, her bandmates loved her, the guest performers loved her… you loved her.

You knew you were imagining it, but somehow she gave off the distinct impression that she loved you , too. You guess that's why she's so popular with the fans? It's the same sort of vibe that pop stars and prostitutes give off. She had a natural charisma that made everyone think, "wow, she really loves us!" It wasn't personal, of course, just a hopeful daydream. That's what you thought until, by coincidence, she locked eyes with you in the middle of Feel Good Inc. She wasn't just looking at the crowd. She was looking at YOU.

You'd looked away, because instinct said not to let her know you'd been staring. Which was dumb because she was a rock star performing on stage; the whole point was for the audience to look at her. So you looked back, and she was still watching you. You'd found yourself unable to look away, and slowly, as the music swelled towards a climax, a mischievous grin spread across her face. If you weren't in the middle of a crowd, she'd probably have been able to tell you had the biggest boner of your entire life. Just as the song ended, she mouthed one word, clear and unmistakable, directed at you and you alone.

"Later."

It wasn't a goodbye, as in, "see you later." It was an invitation, as in, "come see me later." You didn't know how you knew, but you knew. So after everything was over  (the concert had no encore – looked like 2D was having migraine issues or something) you wandered towards the back, where a small group of people waited for some backstage event. Everyone in the group had badges with a specially colored sticker, which you most definitely did NOT have. A pair of bouncers was keeping the crowd at bay, waiting for whatever backstage tour thing was about to start, when a roadie approached them and whispered something into one of their ears. The roadie and the bouncer locked eyes with you, and the roadie pointed. You paled. You weren't really supposed to be here, but surely you couldn't get in trouble just for standing in the wrong line, right?

"Hey," said the bouncer, shouting a little to be heard over the background noise. He was clearly addressing you. "Come to the front."

The rest of the crowd grumbled, more in confusion than anger. You hesitated for a moment, half expecting to find out the bouncer was actually talking to someone else behind you. But there was just empty space. Mechnically, with your heart racing, you made your way to the front, the small crowd begrudgingly parting to make way. As you got within a few feet of the roadie, he pointed down a hallway leading to the left.

"Room 4," he said. "The one with the Japanese writing on it. Don't mind if you hear shouting from #1 or #2, that's just Murdoc having his post-concert screaming match with 2-D. And if the shouting stops, that just means Russell broke it up."

You stand there stupidly for a moment. You understood all the individual words he had said, but they didn't go together in a way that made sense. You think about it for roughly ten million years, before realizing the implication of what you've been told. Noodle, the rockstar, the GODDESS, just invited you to her dressing room. This isn't the whole band, as it sounds like the other three are occupied. This is just Noodle, personally.

Eventually you remember how to walk and mechanically turn to walk down the hallway you've been directed towards. You've never been backstage before, so you don't know what to expect. It's quieter back here – must be some soundproofing in the walls. You pass by door #1, and hear a quiet rattling. Sounds like… a bottle of pills being shaken? You pass by door #2 and hear somebody with a cockney accent not-so-quietly ranting to himself about how stupid someone else is. Door #3 is quiet, though you can see the lights are on. You think you smell weed. And finally you come to door #4. Someone had pinned a small Japanese flag onto it and there's a name on the door written in Kanji. You don't know Japanese, but you think you recognize the symbol.

"節"

"Noodle"

Your heart is beating at about a thousand beats per minute as you stand at the door, trying not to explode. Time slows down and it's about a million degrees in here. You're too nervous to even sweat. You think you might die. What the hell are you even supposed to do here?

You knock twice on the door, quietly but firmly. It might be the single coolest thing you've ever done in your entire life.

"Is that the cute guy from 17-B?" asks the voice from inside. You remember reading once that Noodle only knows Japanese, but that was a long time ago. Her English is accented but otherwise quite good. Her voice is surprisingly deep, for a 15-year-old girl, but you guess a singer like her can sound like whatever the hell she wants to and you aren't about to judge.

You realize she probably wants an answer. Shit, how long has it been? You don't want to waste her time. Say something!

"Yesss?"

Damn it, why did that come out as a question? You already blew it, haven't you?

"Well then don't just stand there, cutie! Come into the room!"

For the second time tonight your brain completely forgets how to put words together. Did she just invite you inside? You're pretty sure that was kind of implied from the bouncer letting you in this far, but somehow you never thought you'd actually get to go inside. That isn't something that just… happens. At least not to you. Eventually, you remember how doorknobs work and open the door. You're quiet and slow, like a kid creeping through the house at night trying not to wake up mom and dad.

In the back left corner of the wall there is a vanity mirror with a shelf and a bunch of makeup. In front of it sits a high chair. In the chair, sits a girl. A musical prodigy, playing lead guitar in a world famous band since the age of eleven. Allegedly some kind of secret government super-soldier. Unarguably the most talented individual in a building currently still full of musicians and fans.

She isn't looking at you' instead focusing her attention on the mirror as she removes her makeup. Up close you can see  her mascara was beginning to run, not that it mattered to a rockstar on stage. She's still wearing the tight white pants and t-shirt, but she's discarded her shoes somewhere. The room smells like incense, but you aren't sure from where.

"Close the door," she says quietly. You do as you're told, instantly. "And sit down!" She gestures vaguely behind her and you manage to look away from her for a moment. There's a small couch – more of a loveseat, really – directly behind her. There's a table strewn with loose papers, some of it sheet music, the rest looking like song lyrics or maybe poetry. You also see her guitar on a stand, but somehow the instrument seems to radiate some kind of energy that frankly terrifies you. Noodle is an expert, a master of her craft, and that guitar is the implement of a craftsman. Being near it is like being near some huge industrial machine. You feel like it could crush you and not even notice.

You avoid the guitar. You sit on the couch. You're not directly behind Noodle, and you can see her face to face through the mirror. Her seat is elevates her a little above you, so she's looking down at you. Somehow, it feels appropriate. She smiles at you.

There's a long silence. Outside, you hear a distant door slamming, followed by cockney shouting. Another door slam, and the shouting fades. Evidently Murdoc is donw grumbling to himself and has moved on to yelling at 2-D.

"What did you think of my concert?" asks Noodle, pulling your attention away from outside. The question is… open. You aren't sure how to answer. You liked it, but of course you can't just say that. That's a non-answer. That's what you say when someone asks how you feel about your preferred breakfast cereal. Noodle is a musician and a singer and a writer and a poet and damn it you have to say more than just "good," she's expecting you to spout something pithy, something she hasn't already heard from every critic and every review.

"I liked it," you say.

God damn it.

But she laughs, and your heart leaps out of your chest. Her laugh is energetic and cheerful, full of enery just like she is. Her smile broadens and her eyes twinkle. For just a moment, you feel like if you died right here and now it would be okay, because your life is complete.

"That's what everyone wants to say," she begins, "But they never get around to it. Everyone who's into music likes to pretend there's some deeper meaning to every little nuance to it, like it's a great big puzzle they have to unravel. Not many people get why I, personally, love making music. I can appreciate a fine work of art as much as anybody. But at the end of the day, I just want to make something that I like. And if other people like it too, that's wonderful!"

Instinctively, you laugh. You have no idea why. You aren't laughing at Noodle or at anything she said, you're just beginning to lose it. This whole situation is kind of insane. You're in Noodle's dressing room for no real reason you can fathom and your blurted out non-answer was exactly the right thing to say to make her happy. And she's still smiling at you in the mirror as you lose it a little bit while sitting on her couch.

Finally, reality starts to set in and your curiosity takes hold. "So why did you invite me back here?" you manage to ask. "Not that it isn't awesome to get to actually meet you directly."

"Oh, did Clive not tell you? He has major hang-ups! I picked you out of the crowd because you're cute and you looked like you were someone who was down to earth and gentle. You're going to be my boyfriend tonight!"

"Boy… friend…?" you stammer. For the third time your brain is doing that thing where words aren't forming sentences properly. You continue staring blankly into Noodle's mirror as she stands and walks closer to you. With a dainty yet forceful kick, she shoves the coffee table to the side, making room in front of you. She kneels in front of you, and you snap out of it as she locks her gaze with you.

"I hope that's okay," she says with a shy smile. "The last two concerts, the guy freaked out and had to be dragged out by security."

The two of you are alone in her dressing room, and Noodle is literally on her knees and practically begging you to do god knows what with her. "Be my boyfriend" is kind of vague but damn it you're alone together and this position is already incredibly suggestive. There's also no way she can't see the tent in your pants, what with her head maybe a foot away from your crotch.

You realize she's waiting for you to say something. Consent, you guess? She's not exactly about to tear your pants off and stand going to town, regardless of teenage hormones and post-concert euphoria.

"Aren’t you a little… young?" you say hesitantly. You realize you're just searching for a reason to get out of this, and she seems to pick up on that.

"I'm not a little kid anymore," she says. "Murdoc and 2-D fuck groupies in their dressing rooms all the time. Usually I have to listen to it through the walls! There's no reason I can't do the same. I have needs, you know!"

You're staring each other down, as your brain searches in vain to find a way to explain why you shouldn't do this. Her eyes are still twinkling, and she's still got that wide, beautiful smile. You realize she's blushing a little, too. Your heart has been racing this entire time, and you can tell hers is too.

Finally your head runs out of excuses to look for. "…fuck it?" you manage to say, with a nod.

Her smile widens, impossible. "You mean it?"

"…yeah? Yeah. Yeah! Why not? Fuck it. Why not? Let's do it."

She hesitates for a moment, just enough time that you could have changed your mind, but you don't. You can't even imagine a universe where you'd even consider changing your mind at this moment. You have Noodle right in front of you, ready to go, and you aren't going to waste one single minute second-guessing this.

She reaches for your belt and undoes it in a single deft movement. Has she done this before? Your pants are unzipped and the tent you were pitching is restrained only by your boxers now. She makes an over-the-top "Ooh!" face, which you're sure is just for show but it works anyway. She gently gropes you with one hand and you're totally paralyzed.

"Relax," she says, "And let me take care of you. There's only one rule, okay? You have to warn me if you're… close. I'm not gonna stop. I'm just gonna make sure you have a good time."

"Okay," you mumble. At this point you think you'd agree to anything she asks of you. She slides down your pants and underwear until your cock springs free. If her head had been any closer it would have slapped her in the face.

"Me likey," she says hungrily. She grips the base, slowly massaging your shaft as she licks her lips. "I sure know how to pick 'em, right?"

You start to answer to the affirmative, but then she pops her head forward and takes you into her mouth. Suddenly your universe exists inside of Noodle, a realm of heat, wetness, and gentle humming. The outside world fades away as her slips slide back upward until only the tips of her lips are around you. She finishes the maneuver with an adorable "mwah!" as she kisses the head of your shaft.

"…holy shit," you manage to say.

"Remember," she said, pointing a finger scoldingly with her free hand. "You have to warn me if you're gonna cum. Right?"

"Right," you nod. At this point you'd sign your life away just for more of that.

She adjusts her sitting position so her head is more directly over your crotch, then opens her mouth wide. She even goes, "aaah!" like a checkup at the dentist, before descending onto you. You can tell she's struggling just a little – you're average in size but she's only fifteen after all. Her head bobs up and down, her petite lips covering you with an extended, loving embrace and you feel yourself sliding deeper down her tongue until finally arriving at the back of her throat. You expect her to pull back with a gag, but she lets out only the slightest hint of a weeze before swallowing you completely.

Her throat is tight and her insides convulse as she swallows you. Her lips reach the bottom of your shaft and she's forced to use both hands on your thighs to keep her balance. Instinctively you brush her hair out of her face, and you didn't know it was possible for a girl to smile with a throat full of meat, but damn if she doesn't manage to.

Finally she pulls off, and she coughs a little as you exit her throat. She opens her mouth but you're still half inside her as she gasps a breath of air. Her tongue is still going to town and you've never even heard of someone multitasking like this. You guess it's just another one of her many talents.

She wraps her lips back around you and starts to really go to town. She's slurping and bobbing and you're pretty sure her face would be a lewd mess if she hadn't removed her makeup earlier. Her drools is going all over your crotch and all you can do is hold onto her head for dear life. Finally you feel the end coming, and instinct tells you to grab her head and hold her down until you've spurted every drop you have directly into her throat – but no, this is Noodle and you were given clear instructions and you're not about to disobey them.

"Stop- stop!" you say, and she pulls off of you. Her lips make one final caress against you as she rears back, breathing heavily, and you're so close to cumming you're afraid you might spurt if she so much as looks as your dick. You stare up at the ceiling and count to ten, imaging that Noodle isn’t still kneeling on the ground I front of you, imagining that your manhood isn't still covered in her saliva.

Eventually the world stops spinning, and you manage to look back at Noodle. Her eyes are wide with anticipation – she's waiting to see if you're ready to keep going. You don't even know how to form words right now, but your twitching cock is ready for more. You give her a single nod, and she nods back.

Noodle stands up and shyly turns away from you. "I was worried for a minute there that you might finish in my mouth. Then we wouldn't be able to get to the fun part." She's gripping the hem of her t-shirt, and pulls it up over her head. You can see her reflection in the mirror, her smooth stomach and her tiny A-cup breasts. She's not wearing a bra but it's not like she needs one.

Even though she's stripping like two feet in front of you, you feel like you shouldn't be looking at her as she undresses. You focus on her back instead. Her perfectly smooth skin, her lithe curves and angular shoulderblades… And then she turns back to face you, her arms covering her chest.

"Do you think I'm sexy?" she asks innocently. For the first time tonight the answer comes instantly.

"Sexy doesn't do it justice."

She smiles, and unzips her jeans. Your cock twitches again, still soaking wet from her earlier performance. She turns away from you again, showing off her petite rear as she slowly slides her jeans down. Her panties are white with little red stars on them, and as she bends over to free herself from her jeans, you can see that her genitals are just as wet as yours are right now.

She kicks her pants to the side and the land underneath the previously discarded coffee table. She stands before you now, her hands clasped behind her back, feet spread shoulder-width apart, wearing nothing but her underwear. It's like she's posing for a magazine cover, and it occurs to you that she's probably done this exact thing before but with clothes still on.

After a moment she steps towards the couch and straddles you. She's sitting on your legs and her sex is pressed right up against you, the thin wet fabric hiding nothing. Your dick is positioning perfectly to prod her belly button, and she giggles as it pulses in time with your heartbeat.

"Do you want me to take these panties off?"

"Yes," you reply immediately.

She reaches down and begins stoking you, pressing you up against the smooth cotton. "Do you want me to ride you? Do you want me to hop onboard your big, manly dick and bounce up and down until we're both too sore to move? Do you want me to squeeze my knees into your legs as I cum all over this big fat cock, screaming until I can't scream anymore?"

"Anything," you say.

"Wrong answer," she says playfully, still stroking you. "I'm tired from the concert, I'm not going to do all the work here. You gotta pull your own weight too."

"Okay," you say.

Still holding your dick, she slides back off you and stands up. You follow mechanically, allowing her hand to guide you. She turns, steering you, and now her back is to the couch and you realize you're practically towering over here. She finally lets go, and your manhood throbs for attention.

She hooks a thumb in the waistband of her underwear as she sits down. Slowly, she slides the soiled panties up her legs, at last exposing her hairless pussy. Her hip bones are angular yet feminine and every inch of her is just totally perfect, totally 100% Noodle.

She reclines on the couch, still smiling, her eyes still twinkling, her legs spread and inviting. She doesn’t have to say anything, you're already on the couch, halfway on top of her, one hand guiding yourself towards her budding womanhood. But a final, tiny worry from the back of your mind stops you.

"I don't have any…" you begin.

"I'm on the pill," she says abruptly. "I was raised by rockstars. They made it pretty clear how important it was."

"Oh," you say, feeling foolish.

"Unless that ruins the mood for you," she says. "Let's say I'm not."

"…but are you, though?"

She just giggles, and your feel your restraint melting away. It's impossible to argue with Noodle, especially with her bare pussy mere inches from wrapping itself around your dick.

"Just put it in already," she says. "And try not to worry too much. I can handle anything."

You hesitate for exactly one second longer before throwing caution to the wind. You press yourself up against her and she's already so wet you're able to slide in with ease. She lets out a hiss, but she's still smiling so you don't stop. You push in a fraction more and suddenly you're sliding into the teenage rockstar all the way to the hilt.

She makes a sound that's not quite a moan or a grunt, more of an undignified "ghuuah." For an instant, she seems to have lost her composure as you bottomed out into her. But you lock eyes again, and she gives you a single nod to carry on.

You grab her bony hips to stabilize yourself as you pull out and begin to fuck her. Noodle squirms beneath you, her modest tits heaving in time with her heavy breath. Your hips connect and her ankles are on your shoulders, and she's too small for your heads to really line up in this position but you'd really like to kiss her. She's grabbing onto your forearms, holding on for dear life, as she clenches impossible tight, impossibly hot. She screws her eyes shut and her panting goes quiet as she cums hard underneath you.

Finally as she's coming down, you feel the end coming as well. After what she'd done with her mouth earlier you have no idea how you even managed to last this long. You warn her that you're at your limit, but she's still holding onto you, her legs pulling you down and her hands clenched painfully tight around your wrists. You couldn't have pulled out if your life depended on it. You finally stab yourself as deep as you can reach, and you swear you can see the shape of yourself outlined beneath her belly button. You cum so hard you worry you might break her, shot after shot of hot seed flowing into the rockstar as she squirms beneath you. Noodle is too tight, too tiny, and the mixture of your juices leak out around your cock, your seed spilling out of her and trickling down her rear.

After a while your senses return to you, and the two of you lock eyes once again. She hasn't stopped smiling during all this, and god if you wouldn't do anything to protect that smile.

"SECURITY!!!" she screams suddenly. The smile is still there, but there's no warmth, it's a smile of mischief.

"Wha…?" you manage to ask, your senses still lost in the girl whose limbs you are currently tangled with, and whose pussy your dick is still half buried in.

The door bangs open, and the bouncer from before is standing there, the roadie behind him. The roadie is barking something into a walkie talkie as the bouncer pulls you off. As you're dragged away, you stare at the soiled teen, speechless. You want to ask why. You wonder, briefly, if this is some kind of delusion. Finally, she speaks.

"That was a lot of fun, cutie! I'll make sure they send you a copy of our next album to play in your prison cell!"

You guess she just likes messing with people.