Sex, Blood and Rock ‘n’ Roll

It had been like field dressing a deer, just as he said it would be. Once she took the skin off and cleaned it, it was very soft and pliable. She wrapped herself in it like a mink coat, and pulled the roughly cut out lapels close to her chin. She could hear them screaming her name, screaming their name.

Sean was grinning, shoving a severed head on end of his bass, she wondered if that would effect the sound any. RayRay had her head submerged in a bucket that was placed underneath a man with his throat slit. They’d let his thick syrupy blood leak out hours ago, while he suffocated. Dan had the foresight to put an anti-coagulating agent in the mix, so that it didn’t start to get all crusty.

Annabell was draped in her man cloak, wearing nothing but fishnet hot pants and electrical tape over her big pink nipples. She looked like a flesh colored pterodactyl, right out of some 1970s prehistoric porno. RayRay was letting the freshly applied bodily fluid drip down her naked DD tits, rubbing the gooey red slime all over herself before stepping into a neon blue g-string, she had long blonde dreads and diamond tassels on her fancy feast breasts. She was more like Jack the Ripper’s favorite cyber punk prostitute, and that was probably what she was going for.

Dan snuck up behind Annabell and pulled her close, kissing the base of her neck. “You look so hot wearing that hipster’s skin,” he whispered breathily. “They’re shouting our name!” Sean motioned the others out towards the stage. Anna gave one last look at the carnage before she picked up her token microphone, a meat cleaver with a sound head attached, and spread her freshly skinned wings for one hell of an entrance.

Anal Corpse Fuckers played an hour and a half set while enthralled fans threw chunks of raw meat, and masturbated furiously to the writhing stripperific horror goddesses wailing on their instruments. It was porn meets Spinal Tap meets Friday the 13th. Annabell and RayRay mouth fucked each other while Dan and Sean raged furiously in the background. By the time the cops showed up the audience was covered in one form of liquid or another.

The band made their way back to the dressing room, listening to their manager offer the pigs a hunk of change to get the fuck out of there. Waiting patiently by the door were five awesome groupies, coated in blood and black make up, three boys and two succulent imitation RayRay girls.

“Hello friends,” Dan hissed with a smile. “Want to come back stage for the after party?” They all squealed with delight. Annabell sashayed in close to one of the boys and grabbed his cock with her left hand, while caressing his stomach with her mic. He started melting in her grasp and then sank completely as she penetrated his gut with her giant knife.

The girls started to scream, Dan and Sean quickly subdued them. RayRay had already injected the other two boys with a slow acting neurotoxin, they felt the terror but they couldn’t move a muscle. Annabell left her hemorrhaging man to wither in the corner. She approached her two new lovers, stradling them and grinding against their hip bones, their eyes white with terror. “Sweetie,” she giggled. “Don’t look at me like that! You wanted to join the party, now you’re going to be part of the road show . . . as props.”

They all grinned wickedly and pulled the bodies in the back room.

By Emily Smith-Miller

*Inspired by the band Butcher Babies

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