The Prince of Punk Rock

by Jenna Galicki

  Jessi was hesitant about explaining what she saw on the DVD and didn’t answer.

  “Did he shove a urethral sound in his dick?”

  Jessi jerked back. “What? No!”

  “Did he use a ball vice?”

  “No! I don’t even know what that is.”

  “What are you getting all worked up about then, anal beads?”

  Alyssa’s knowledge of hardcore sex toys caught Jessi by surprise. Even though her friend walked around dressed like a dominatrix on a daily basis, she never envisioned that Alyssa’s aesthetic transcended into the bedroom.

  Alyssa laughed. “You should see your face. I never knew that Jessi Blade, involved in a steady ménage à trois with two of the hottest guys in rock and roll, was so vanilla.”

  “I just never heard of those things before and I didn’t know my best friend was such an expert. These last few days have been very enlightening. I didn’t know I was sexually uneducated.”

  “So what exactly did you see on this DVD that was so bad, if it wasn’t anything hardcore?”

  Compared to the things Alyssa just described – nothing. “Angel hit Tommy.”

  “You mean like, punched him and beat him up?”

  “No! Nothing like that. He was using that thing.” She made a whipping motion with her wrist.

  “A flogger?”

  “Yeah. A flogger. Angel hit Tommy with a flogger.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well . . . yeah, but it was difficult to watch. There were bright red marks on Tommy’s back.” The memory made her cringe. “He has such beautiful cream colored skin and it’s velvety soft. I wanted to jump through the computer screen and pull that thing out of Angel’s hand. And hit him with it. See how he liked it.”

  “He might have liked it a lot. I’m a piercer, Jessi. I pierce a lotta dicks. Do you know what a Prince Albert is?”

  Jessi heard of it, but she wasn’t really sure what it was. She gave an unconvincing nod.

  “It’s a piercing on the tip of the penis, through the urethra and the sensitive underside of the head. Sounds really painful, right? Well, every once in a while a guy has an orgasm when I pierce it. Damien did, practically the second the needle hit his flesh.”

  “Damien has his dick pierced?”

  “Yeah. And his scrotum and his nipples. Damien likes pain.” An evil smile spread across her blood red lips. “And I like to give it to him.”

  Jessi wondered how the hell they got on the subject of Damien’s dick and balls. She covered her ears with her hands. “I don’t want to hear any more about Damien’s penis.”

  Alyssa crossed her legs and played with the zipper on her leather boot. “Watch the video one more time. I bet you’ll find it’s not so bad after all, now that the initial shock has worn off.”

  Jessi told herself she wasn’t going to play the video again, but she found herself popping it into her laptop as soon as Alyssa left.

  The sight of Tommy shackled to the bed made her heart sink. He looked helpless, but maybe that was the point. Enter Angel, the man who made her life hell . . . and heaven. She felt each stroke of the sharp leather against Tommy’s perfect skin and winced as each welt rose on his flesh. His beautiful long blond hair, yanked back harshly in Angel’s fist, made her angry and she yearned to protect him. She couldn’t watch anymore and hit pause.

  She wiped the tears that streamed down her cheeks, and wondered how she was supposed to get past the brutality. She advanced the video, past the flogging. That damn ball gag was no longer in his mouth. She didn’t notice that the first time. Nor did she realize that Tommy was on his back now, so he and Angel could make eye contact and watch each other. He was still handcuffed and his arms, spread wide apart, accentuated his muscular chest.

  Angel had his fingers inside Tommy. First one, then two. He squeezed more lube and twisted his fingers in a circular motion. She envisioned Angel’s fingers finding the spot that made Tommy weaken – the spot she knew intimately. A third finger tried to make its entrance, but Tommy jerked. Angel was watching him and paused. He waited for Tommy to take a few deep breaths and nod, before he continued. Angel’s hand was on the move again, plunging deep into Tommy’s body. His face had the glow of ecstasy that she knew so well. His gorgeous hair was fanned out on the pillow around him like a magnificent halo. That was the scene her fantasies were made of – Angel pleasing Tommy. This part of the video wasn’t violent. It was the first part that she couldn’t erase from her mind. Rough sex was OK, pain wasn’t.

  She closed her laptop and stared at the painting on the wall. It was a landscape. An English garden. It looked like it was under water, blurry and distorted. Then the tears rolled down her cheeks and they wouldn’t stop.

  Jessi woke early the next morning. It was going to be a busy day. The band was performing at the Pacific Amphitheater in Costa Mesa, about an hour south of L.A. It was a big show and everything went wrong, which was probably a good thing. It meant she was busy and didn’t have time to hang around sound check or in the dressing room. She was purposely avoiding Tommy and Angel.

  Not only was she 30 minutes late because she had to wait for the cleaners to find the dancers’ costumes, but the tour bus driver had a case of food poisoning and she needed to get a replacement at the last minute to drive the band to the venue. By the time she got there and checked in with Marissa and the production manager to firm up any loose ends, there was only about an hour left before the show started.

  The dressing room was busy with people, so she kept herself occupied by having unnecessary conversations with the stage hands and the production crew. She felt Tommy’s presence bearing down on her, but refused to look in his direction.

  His hand on her arm made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “I missed you, hon. Why didn’t you take my calls?”

  The piece of lint on the carpet held her attention. “I’m sorry. I . . . I didn’t know what to say to you.”

  “How about, I love you, or, I miss you?”

  She finally looked up at him. The day old razor stubble on his chin made its first public appearance. It was a shade darker than his fair blond locks and sexy as hell. Her fingertips grazed the soft tidbits of hair on his face. Tommy pressed his lips into the palm of her hand and left them there. She swallowed and tried to control the tremor in her lower lip.

  Tommy took her hand from his cheek and held it. He caressed it in both his hands. He stared down at it and was quiet for a long time. “Did you get to go to the fair at all today?”

  That was the plan before the last few days were shattered by the sordid content of the DVD. They were supposed to spend the morning at the Orange County Fair, known for its deep fried aberrations and bacon-covered everything. “No. I was too busy. Did you?”

  “Just for a little bit.”

  Their conversation was contrived and strained, but their eyes were glued on their interlocking hands.

  “Are you all set for the show? Do you have your guitar straps?” He was always changing them and always misplacing them.

  “Yeah. I just need one more thing. I need my wife back.”

  She looked up at him. His powerful gaze held her motionless.

  “I want you to come back to Chateau Marmont with us after the show.”

  She slowly nodded. “I was up all night thinking this through. We need to have a serious conversation about our future.”

  On the bus ride back to the hotel, Jessi stayed in the living area on the leather couch in front of the TV. She didn’t want to venture back into the bedroom. Tommy sat with her and Angel joined them. The rest of the band and the dancers retreated to their bunks or the kitchen, aware of the tension surrounding the three of them.

  Jessi paid no attention to what they were watching. Television was the last thing on her mind. She and Tommy barely spoke, and Angel didn’t say anything at all. There was little traffic on the 405 this late at night, and the bus pulled up to The Standard less than an hour later.

  “
Do you want me to tell the driver to wait while you get your bag and check out?” Tommy asked.

  “No. That’s not necessary. He can bring us straight to Chateau Marmont.”

  They were eerily silent on the ten minute drive down Sunset Blvd. and no one said a word on the elevator ride up to their suite.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Tommy took her in his arms. She tried to resist, but his touch was everything she longed for. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I knew you would’ve never participated in our playtime. I wasn’t trying push you away. I don’t want you to feel left out. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make it up to you. Just let me know, and it’s done.”

  She pushed out of his embrace, even though it tore her heart in half. She wanted to be in his arms. She wanted him to hold her. “You’re right. I would’ve never let Angel hit you with that thing.” Her hand went to her chest. “My heart wrenched when I watched it. I wanted to hold you and protect you.”

  “Jessi,” Angel said, “I would never hurt Tommy. You’re making me feel so bad, like I intentionally abused him. I really wasn’t hitting him that hard. It was all done at Tommy’s direction. He told me exactly what he wanted me to do. We maintained eye contact. We had cues that meant stop. It was consensual. I love Tommy just as much as you do, you know. I love him enough to share him, too. This isn’t easy for me, either. That video was exaggerated. We never did anything that extreme and I never put a ball gag in his mouth before. It was only for effect.”

  “It broke my heart to see you hit Tommy. I don’t know how you could do that to him. I was so angry at you. I wanted to hate you, and for a little while, I did.”

  His eyes looked pathetically sad and his mouth bowed down into a deep frown. Her heart went out to him and she felt bad for the terrible accusations she flung at him.

  “I watched the DVD again. Parts of it. It was too hard to watch the whole thing. I realized that you were only playing along. I know how much you love Tommy. I know you would never hurt him. You could never hurt anyone, Angel. You’re too kind-hearted. I’m sorry I said those horrible things to you. I’m ashamed. It was because I was angry. I know you would never try to steal Tommy away from me. I love you, Angel.”

  She turned her gaze on Tommy. “You’re right. I would’ve never let him hit you with that thing and bruise your delicate skin. I understand I can’t change your sexual preferences or your sexual fantasies. I would never ask you to change for me. Like you said, that’s not fair, but doing it behind my back isn’t fair either. It’s too grand. I’d always be wondering if Angel went too far, checking your body for bruises. It’s not something I can deal with.” She stared at the city lights through the panoramic window. “Things need to change. When the tour’s over, I’m going back to FIT and getting my degree. I’m opening a store. I’m going to hire seamstresses and a full time staff, everything I need to get a business off the ground. I’m gonna sell my designs, just like I always dreamed of doing. I’m tired of taking a back seat to everything and everybody. I’m putting myself first for once.”

  “I’m happy, hon. I always told you to finish school. You know I always wanted you to start your own clothing line. I always supported your work. You’re very talented.”

  “We need to come to a compromise. I’m going to have to get used to this game the two of you love to play. It’s new to me. You’re going to need to be patient. Ease me into it, because it’s going to take some getting use to. If it’s part of your life, it needs to be part of mine.”

  She saw the relief wash over Tommy’s face as he opened his arms. “Do you have any idea how much I love you? Your understanding and loyalty continually amaze me.” He put his arms around her and held her so tight she could barely breathe.

  Angel came behind her put his protective arms around the both of them. “This is more like it. Our family is whole again. I was a wreck these last few days, sweetheart, when you were angry at me. I’m so sorry. I don’t ever want to fall out of your graces again. And I’m so proud of you.”

  Angel kissed the back of her head and gave them a powerful squeeze. “Let’s enjoy the rest of the week. Let’s see what we should do tomorrow.” He rifled through some papers on the coffee table. “I have so many things planned for us. We still have a few days in this wonderful city and in this glorious hotel.”

  Tommy rolled his eyes. “Today I learned that Led Zeppelin rode their motorcycles through the lobby in the late ‘60s. I’m glad you’re back, hon, because if I have to listen to Angel rattle off one more piece of rock and roll trivia about this hotel, I’m going to jump off the roof.”

  She chuckled. “Then you’ll just give him more ammunition. I can see the headline now.” She looked in the distance and spread the palm of her hand through the air. “The Prince of Punk Rock Leaps From the Rooftop and Defies the Grim Reaper.”

  Tommy laughed and she enjoyed the way the corners of his eyes crinkled.

  “I can hear the two of you making fun of me, you know.” Angel held up some pamphlets. “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to start by having breakfast in the garden terrace. Did you see it, sweetheart? It’s magnificent! Then we should take a helicopter tour of the Hollywood sign and I want to visit the Grammy Museum. They have an exhibit of Michael Jackson’s wardrobe!”

  Tommy folded his arms across his chest. “You see that spark in his eye, that exuberance, it was gone when you weren’t here, hon. I’m not the only one who missed you.”

  Not long afterwards, Damien showed up at the door with his bass over his shoulder and her duffle bag at his feet. “I don’t want to interrupt, but I’m having a problem with the fuckin’ strings on my Ibanez again. I want Tommy to take a look at it. And Alyssa said Jessi needed her bag.” He sat on the couch, turned the tuning peg and plucked at his bass. He pursed his lips to the side and shook his head. “The D string doesn’t feel right.”

  Jessi watched Tommy examine Damien’s bass. He was a master when it came to instruments. He was diagnosing the problem, pointing to the bridge at the bottom part of the bass.

  “And why don’t you use heavier gauge strings?” he asked Damien. “The way you play this thing, you’re gonna break one.”

  “I’ve never broke a string, dude. Guitar players break strings, not bass players.”

  “I’ve seen bass players break strings. It can happen. Especially if you slap the hell out of it the way you do. You’re aggressive.”

  “Soft ain’t my style.”

  Damien fussed with his bass for a bit, and then shook it with frustration. “I hate this fuckin’ bass! I’m gonna throw it into traffic one day!”

  Before he left, he stuck a tattooed finger in Jessi’s face. “You OK?”

  She flinched. Other than almost losing an eye, she was fine, now. She nodded at him. “I’m OK.”

  He grabbed her chin in his hand, rather roughly, and stuck a hard wet kiss on her cheek. “Good. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Colorado, Missouri, Chicago, Michigan.

  The rocking of the bus often left Jessi wide awake. She hated lying in bed and staring at the confined space that made up their bedroom, but she didn’t want to disturb everyone by turning on the TV. Tonight seemed to be the first quiet night in weeks.

  Life on a tour bus was challenging for Jessi. On the days when the band was performing, it was exciting and energetic. When they had a day off they explored whatever city they were in, and enjoyed the local night life. But when they were on the road and she was stuck in a cramped bus with nine other people, she felt like she was going to lose her mind. They were all shoe-boxed in together with no privacy.

  She missed her big house and the plush, over-sized bed that she always teased Angel about because it was garishly large. She flipped the covers off and crawled down to the bottom of the bed. It was her only way out. The bed was wedged in between the walls of the bus. She moved slowly, so the bed didn’t shake. She didn’t want to wake Tommy. Angel needed to t
ake his sleep medication in order to get any rest on the bumpy bus, and an earthquake couldn’t disturb him. She tiptoed past the sleeping quarters for the rest of the band and dancers, and noticed the curtain was drawn on Alyssa’s bunk and the bed was empty. At least she would have someone to talk to instead of sitting by herself in the living area. But then she spotted Alyssa, sandwiched in the bunk with Damien.

  Whispers and moans came from behind the closed curtain of Jimmy’s bunk and a naked leg fell out from underneath the draped fabric. Ahh, the life of an unattached rock star.

  Jessi made her way to the front of the bus and sat on the overstuffed couch. She curled her legs up underneath her, and looked at the road that glided by. She could see the bus driver’s silhouette through the slit in the partition. He was a nice man, who missed his family when he was on the road. When they started the tour he was a total stranger, and now he was like family.

  Family. It brought back the nagging regret of the family she lost. Jessi’s sisters were pressuring her parents to apologize, but they still wouldn’t give in. Her parents were set in their ways and closed minded. Even if they did apologize for the horrible things they said, she still didn’t know if she could forgive them. But they were her parents and an apology would be a start to mending the relationship . . . if they chose to offer one.

  Jessi continued to watch the stark night glide by on the expressway. It was black, lit only by the occasional lone car or tractor trailer. She couldn’t remember what city they were going to or where the band was performing next. No matter. They would be gone by nightfall. There was no time to meander around the city tomorrow. They had another show the following day. Was this the life she longed for? Long hours on an overcrowded bus, all under each other’s feet, going from city to city without enough time to enjoy or experience its culture? She thought about it, for a long time, before a smile spread across her face. Those were only the downside. The rest of it was what she strived for. The fame and the recognition is what she craved, along with the attention of the people who called her name, when their only connection was the rock idols they adored. Nothing could replace the thrill of watching Tommy and Angel perform on stage, in front of a sold out crowd. And, of course, there was the money and everything that went along with it.