Section 8

SuLing was welcomed to the group with good cheer and hugs. “I see you passed the audition.” Willy giggled. “It’s just rock ‘n roll. You’ll like it.”

The nonplussed percussionist was still in a state of shock. These girls knew that this guy stripped her clothes away, shaved her privates bare and took her cherry as if it belonged to him. She thought, maybe it did and now, it does. This while Melody and his twin sisters watched with Polly filming. He had carried her through the house to his office, still impaled on his cock, and still fucking her, signed her to pose naked for rooms full of staring friends and strangers.

Now everyone was acting like this was not out of the ordinary. They clearly had a different ordinary.

The girls were serving the microwave warmed take-out food, talking all the while about their next posing session and band practice later tonight. About the time they had decided on a tentative playlist, Phil’s phone rang.

He talked for a few minutes before addressing the diners. “That was Professor Martin. She expects to be disappointed with the opportunities at the track meet and wants us to do a quick set for the students here by the pool.” He continued, “The faculty wants the classes to attend, but mostly to see the bodies in motion and get an understanding of the anatomy. Prof. von Helmond’s students will be able to get the most benefit ‘cause they can shoot stop-action. The sculptors, not so much.”

They agreed but wanted to know the theme, if there was one. Phil spoke into the phone for a brief time longer and hung up.

“Here’s the deal. She’s bringing over some field event equipment and archery supplies. The meet should be over by 3:30. You’re to wear the pastel sundresses or shorts and tank top combos. Poses will be in the classic Olympic style: discus, javelin, hammer throw, shot-put, pole vault, etc.”

“Will every class be here? Naked or not?” Emily asked.

“Everyone will be here, Emily. You and Polly will have to get dressed.” He laughed at her frown. “You can be naked in public tomorrow if we do the coven scene since you can’t wait for me to make you strip”

“Tonight, during band practice, I think you should be our naked tambourine player.” Willy suggested. “Tall girl tits shaking to the music. What’s not to like?”

Karen kept up the stream. “Joanne and Nancy with those beaded gourds would be easy on the eyes, too.”

“Just hang some jingle bells on our nipples and we’d be the hottest rhythm section in the country.” Nancy took off her sundress and shimmied her cute ‘C’ cup titties. Joanne zipped off to get the boob jewelry, losing her dress along the way.

“It’s called a shekele and I’m glad you didn’t think of the Somali-American girl first.” Zina smiled. “I want to be Carmine Miranda with maracas.”

“You do have a nice pair of ‘maracas’. You’ll get no argument from me.” Phil did his best Groucho Marx face. “Not gonna happen when we play for the public, though.”

“The thin little sundresses under the bright spotlights are as close to being naked in a nightclub as I can stand.” Marcie said. “The figure drawing class is about my limit.”

“Unless Phil decides you want otherwise.” Polly warned. “If so, you will be out there just like me.”

“Shy, retiring English major to frat boy wet dream in three easy steps!” Karen snickered, “And all to save little old me from homelessness. Maybe we should open a tiny titty bar?”

“We could create an avatar for everyone and write an extremely ‘R’ rated RPG.” April proposed. “Virtual tits on parade keeping the world safe for naked girls everywhere.”

“A whole new definition of ‘X’-box.” May added. “We’ll put Laura Croft out to pasture.”

Phil cut in. “That is for the far future, if at all. But not a bad idea for a programming project. As for Marcie’s concern, how we practice is one thing, how we perform is another. A naked band playing a bat mitzvah puts a different spin on ‘coming of age’ celebrations for young ladies, don’t you think?”

He changed the subject. “Do we have a name for this demented collection of talents?”

“We’ve tossed around a few. The best are ‘Gravity’s Master’, ‘Model Behavior’ and ‘Bad Role Models’. Nancy giggled as Joanne fitted her with a nipple clamp.

“We tried ‘Swenson’s Swans’ but the twins weren’t crazy about that one.” Joanne laughed as she tightened the clamp on Nancy. “I think I need to chain you to SuLing. Come here little Drummer Girl.”

“I’ll help her get her ready first.” Phil pulled her dress over her head, and bit her titties gently. “These little beauties pop right out.” He pinched the left nipple and tugged the near comatose girl to Joanne.

The Drama girl checked Phil’s preparation. “She is more than ready. Hold still, SuLing. You’re gonna love this.” She waited a few beats. “Maybe not as much as Melody would.”

SuLing was puzzled more at her own submissive non-reaction than at the casually playful liberties these teens were taking with her body. She thought to herself, as much as her could think at all, about why she had chosen not to flee, even after having been given the choice more than once. Did the fictional princesses abducted and ruthlessly used by the handsome pirates in the romance novels suffer from this strange excitement? Did the pirates fill more than the obvious voids in their boring, insulated lives? Is this the romance her mother banned from her home? The strange excitement certainly made the embarrassment bearable as more fantasy questions were answered before they were asked.

Joanne attached the clamp to SuLing’s right nipple, leaving the chain attached to Nancy’s left tit. “Like Phil told us, ‘Where the titty goes, the girl follows’.” She tugged the chain and both girls stepped forward quickly. “I believe he was right!”

Phil watched in amusement as one of the three remaining virgins led the most recently initiated girl around by her tits, attached to another rare virgin. I’ll never understand these girls, he again admitted to himself.

“Maybe you should lead them to the music room while we put the food away? We’ll meet you there in a few.” He and the girls rapidly packed the leftovers, cleared the table and filled the dishwasher. They were in the basement in less than five minutes.

Joanne had separated the titties, put a naked SuLing behind the drum kit as she and Nancy were setting up mic stands. Everyone got involved and were soon arranged around the room ready to make music.

“To warm up we should start with ‘Bolero’, something we all know. Polly can open with her clarinet. Next, SuLing can join with soft bass drums, adding tom-toms, picking up the pace with each new voice. Then May with the electric bass, Polly on clarinet, April with her cello, Melody’s violin and Willy’s piano following. I’ll complete the group with the synthesizer as cathedral organ last. By then we should be rocking the rhythm pretty fast and anyone with a noise maker can join the fun.”

Polly counted them in and began the intro. Everyone came in on time and soon the room was playing like mad. The only thing in the room was the music and as it reached the peak of Ravel’s progression, Phil made a ‘draw it out’ sign. “Willy. Take the synthesizer and improvise.” She abandoned the piano and moved over one seat. Phil picked up the Stratocaster and set the strings on fire, beginning like Segovia then blending into Buckingham and Richards.

SuLing changed the rhythm from straightish drumming to Reggae to hardcore wild woman, becoming the girl dervish lost in and freed by the beat.

That energized the other players to reach for the stars. Melody’s violin morphed into fiddle and it was game on for the next hour.

Eventually, Phil signaled SuLing to take it home. She began a clearly set ending frenzied crescendo as the others bowed out on their own finales. Phil, raised the guitar neck as he started a screaming bluesy solo, SuLing watched his eyes, catching her cue. He dropped the neck on a deafening note as she hit the big drum and the cymbals as hard and fast as she could precisely as Phil killed the last echo.

“And that’s how you play ‘Bolero’. James Gang, eat your heart out.” Marcie applauded.

The entire group was flushed and panting but ready to play on. “We set up the mixer and recorder. It might be pretty raw, but we have the whole piece on tape.” Nancy said, “A little something we learned in theatre production. Anything can happen when you go live. If you’re lucky, you get this.”

“We took the instrument feeds directly from the amps and balanced as the additional musicians entered. The microphone inputs just made it sound fuller. Not bad for the first take.”

“We can’t duplicate it. The next take will be different because we know what we can do together. The interplay will be more personal. But not now.” Polly decided, “To my everlasting rock ‘n roll shame, why don’t we do ‘Dancing Queen’ by ABBA?”

“I agree. It is hugely fun to play and the vocals are relatively easy.” Willy said.

“Simple enough to vamp a lot and do crazy harmonies, too.” April added. “Let’s do it.”

SuLing counted in the rhythm and off to disco-land they went. She kept the beat to a normal pace as they repeated the venerable dance standard twice through.

The girls sang an excellently spirited rendition of Ronstadt’s ‘Silver Threads and Golden Needles’. No one took lead vocals. They harmonized the entire song. “That was phenomenal! I’ve never heard a group of voices fall into sync like that ever.” Melody gushed.

“It seemed so comfortable and automatic.” Zina declared. “We just knew what to do and how to react without conscious effort. It just came out like it was supposed to.”

“I want you to hear our brother sing. Start with ‘Glory Days’ and go straight into “Born to Run’. Can you do that, SuLing, berserker drummer that you are?”

With a grin bigger than her face, SuLing answered, “In my sleep. Hold on to your tits. I’m about to rock ‘em off.”

She looked at Phil still holding the Stratocaster and nodded. Phil winked and countered the beat with the guitar neck. On the fourth drop, both of them launched the intro. The strings picked the organ and rhythm guitar parts, May did Clarence proud and Willy did a pounding bass on the synthesizer. April drove the cello like a steel guitar. Within four bars every one was into the zone. They were playing for the aliens.

Phil growled the lead vocals like he was living the song, not as Springsteen, but as every man, becoming the singer, baritone, gruff, nostalgic, wistful and a little sad.

“I had a friend was a big baseball player back in high school He could throw that speedball by you Make you look like a fool boy Saw him the other night at this roadside bar I was walking in, he was walking out We went back inside sat down had a few drinks but all he kept talking about was”

The girls sang the chorus as if they and been born to it.

“Glory days well they’ll pass you by Glory days in the wink of a young girl’s eye Glory days, glory days”

As they wound down the less than cheerful tune down, Willy found a motorcycle sound effect on the keyboard control and followed the last chorus with a fierce revving noise.

SuLing hammered the skins and it was on once again:

Phil wailed out the lyric and the voices made it up as they went along, always on time and always right:

“In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out on highway 9, Chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin’ out over the line h-Oh, Baby this town rips the bones from your back It’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap We gotta get out while we’re young ‘Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run

yes, girl we were

Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend I want to guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs ‘round these velvet rims and strap your hands ‘cross my engines Together we could break this trap We’ll run till we drop, baby we’ll never go back h-Oh, Will you walk with me out on the wire ‘Cause baby I’m just a scared and lonely rider But I gotta know how it feels I want to know if love is wild Babe I want to know if love is real

Oh, can you show me

Beyond the Palace hemi-powered drones scream down the boulevard Girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors And the boys try to look so hard The amusement park rises bold and stark Kids are huddled on the beach in a mist I wanna die with you Wendy on the street tonight In an everlasting kiss

1-2-3-4!

The highway’s jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive Everybody’s out on the run tonight but there’s no place left to hide Together Wendy we can live with the sadness I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul h-Oh, Someday girl I don’t know when we’re gonna get to that place Where we really wanna go and we’ll walk in the sun But till then tramps like us baby we were born to run

Oh honey, tramps like us baby we were born to run

Come on with me, tramps like us baby we were born to run”

(© The Boss & E-Street Band)

They repeated the last verse as one voice screaming to the aliens and it was magic. Again, the lead guitar and drums soloed and brought the song to a smoking end.