Paul looked up at the stage as a howling wall of distortion announced the start of Eisenstern's set. Most of the band were as he'd have expected - a bunch of muscular, slightly overweight Germans in black T-shirts, jeans, and corpsepaint, with ponytails or shaved heads - but the singer... the singer was the spitting image of Pete Murphy circa 1980, right down to the cheekbones and eyeshadow. Paul stared, open-mouthed, as the Murphyesque pixie unleashed the most ferociously brutal death-metal snarl he'd ever heard. Paul started to move towards the pit, then looked a little closer, and realised that the furiously snarling young man on the stage wasn't using a microphone. Something clicked inside his head, and he pushed towards the front. The first song came to an end in a thunderous crash of drums and the hard-core fans in the crowd started chanting. "Johann! Johann! Johann!" The singer - clearly Johann - punched the air and roared a greeting to the crowd in barely-accented English. "Good evening London! We are Eisenstern!" he bellowed, and pulled off his sleeveless T-shirt to reveal his pale, scar-latticed chest. Paul finally reached the front just as the second song kicked off with a heavy, rumbling bass line. Johann pulled out a heavy-bladed carving knife, grey from repeated use, and kissed the dull metal. "Messerkuss!" he roared, and ran the blade's edge across his left forearm, leaving a shallow, oozing cut. The set roared and rumbled on, Johann's snarling vocals getting ever more frenzied as blood oozed from a dozen cuts. Paul's fascination with the crazed death-pixie left him standing at one end of the stage, away from the pit, unable to take his eyes off Johann's pale, lacerated chest. Finally Johann grabbed the cloth that was draped around the drum kit's tom stands and wiped the blade of the carving knife clean. "Thank you London!" he bellowed, before sheathing the knife and stalking off the stage. Paul scrambled up onto the stage before security could stop him and ducked behind the stacks. Johann was standing there with a bottle of vodka in his hand as if waiting for Paul. "We played a good set, nein?" asked Johann, taking a heavy swig from the vodka. "Fucking heavy." One of the security team stepped behind the stacks. "Is this guy your guest?" "Ja, ja. I take him to my dressing room now and fuck his arse," replied Johann, draping one bloody arm around Paul's shoulders. "Riiight," said the guard, and turned away. "Don't bloody believe it, first he fills the hall without a mic and now he says he fucks boys." Paul looked at Johann, an odd look in his eyes. "Do you..." "Ja, ja, ja." Johann took another swig of vodka and handed it to Paul. "But we go to hotel, not to dressing room, for that. Dressing room is uncomfortable and full of ugly roadies." Paul's head spun, and he took a long pull on the vodka before handing it back to Johann. Johann grinned at him. "You want to come back to my hotel?" asked Johann, putting the top back on the vodka. Paul nodded, not trusting himself to speak with his brain half-addled by lust and alcohol. * * * * "I'm sorry, Mr Kreuzenfeld. We have no record of your booking," said the hotel receptionist. "And we don't take spot bookings from drunks." Johann stared at her. Paul pulled out his wallet and produced five twenty pound notes and his credit card. "The twenties are yours," he said, then his eyes fell on the magazine she was reading behind the counter. "And maybe your shift ends soon and you can take in the live show." The receptionist blinked at him, and hurriedly tucked the magazine into her handbag. "In about ten minutes, actually. OK, so that'll be room 310." Paul took the keys and headed up the stairs. "Paul, why did you say that?" asked Johann, leaning heavily on the handrail as he made his way up the stairs behind Paul. "She was looking at a gay hardcore magazine." Johann grinned. "Ja, she will enjoy the live show." They reached the door of room 310, and Paul unlocked it. Johann shoved Paul into the room as the door swung open. Paul stumbled then caught himself, and turned to see Johann pushing the door to and slipping a wedge under it to stop it shutting properly. "So she does not have to use the master key," he said. Paul grinned, and bent over to unlace his boots. Johann stepped up behind Paul and spanked him. "English boys like this, nein?" Paul's grin broadened as Johann landed another stinging swat. Paul straightened up and kicked off his boots, then turned to face Johann. Johann put the vodka down, grabbed the back of Paul's neck, and kissed him deeply. Paul responded, pressing his body against Johann's and slipping a hand down the back of his trousers. Johann gave a muffled groan as Paul's fingers caressed his arse. The door swung open, and Paul saw the receptionist standing there, eyes agleam. She stepped into the room, hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside of the door, and pushed the door shut properly. "Hello boys," she said. Paul broke off the kiss, grinned at the receptionist, and peeled off Johann's T-shirt. "What's your name?" he asked. "I like to know who I'm giving a private show to." She licked her lips as she studied Johann's slim, scar-latticed body. "Andrea," she said, as she unzipped her skirt. "You don't mind if I just get comfortable, do you?" Her skirt fell to the floor. Johann looked across at her, his piercing blue eyes slowly working up her stockinged legs. "You are very sexy, Andrea," he said. Andrea's face flushed under his scrutiny. "I like girls, too," he added, as he untucked Paul's T-shirt and peeled it off. Paul unzipped Johann's jeans and started stroking his cock. Johann groaned, pushing his hips towards Paul, and leaned over to bite his neck. Paul gasped, tightening his grip on Johann's cock, then let go and shoved him backwards onto the bed. Johann grinned as Paul climbed onto the bed, straddling his feet. "Suck my cock," he snarled. Paul leaned forward and ran his tongue around the head of Johann's cock. Johann moaned softly, savouring the feel of Paul's wet, forceful tongue on his cock, then gasped as Paul's mouth enveloped his cock and started to rock up and down. Johann stroked Paul's neck and shoulders with the tips of his fingernails, savouring the sensations in his cock as Paul groaned in response. Paul moved his head faster, taking Johann deeper into his mouth, and unfastened his own jeans. Johann groaned, thrusting his hips upward and digging his nails into Paul's shoulders. Paul moved his head faster still, giving a muffled gasp as Johann's nails dug into him, and reached down to stroke himself. Johann gave one final snarling groan as Paul brought him to orgasm. Paul savoured the hot, salty taste as Johann's come filled his mouth, then swallowed it down and slipped off Johann's cock. Johann looked down at Paul, then flicked his eyes across to see Andrea leaning against the wall, one hand down the front of her knickers. "Come here, Paul," said Johann. Paul grinned, and shifted up the bed, still stroking his cock as he straddled Johann's chest. Johann raised his head and licked the swollen head of Paul's cock. "You have a big cock for an Englishman," said Johann, and took it into his mouth. Paul groaned with pleasure and slipped his hands round to support Johann's head as he sucked. Johann moved his head faster, swirling his tongue around the shaft of Paul's cock and humming to make his mouth vibrate. Paul's groans grew louder and he felt his balls tightening. Johann's teeth brushed lightly against the shaft of Paul's cock, making him throw his head back and gasp. Johann took Paul as deep as he could, swiftly tipping him over the edge. Paul howled in ecstasy, his cock pumping come into Johann's mouth, then slumped forward, bracing himself against the bed with his hands. A whimpering moan slipped from Andrea's lips, and the two men looked across to see her with her fingers thrust up inside herself and her head thrown back, eyes closed. Paul climbed off Johann and kicked off his jeans. "You want her, don't you?" he whispered, stroking Johann's scarred chest. Johann kicked his jeans off and straddled Paul. "I might do... but I want you more. I want to fuck you hard in the arse, I want to pull on your ponytail so you scream, I want to hurt you." Paul's cock started to harden again as Johann spoke, and Andrea's moans of pleasure hit a crescendo. Johann smiled, looking over his shoulder to see her slide down the wall purring contentedly in a post-orgasmic haze. "Andrea... would you help me tie this boy to the bed? There's rope and handcuffs in my jacket. And your knickers would make a perfect gag." Andrea grinned back at Johann and peeled off her knickers. "Of course," she said, dropping them on the bed and rummaging through Johann's battered, much-repaired leather jacket. Johann looked down at Paul. "Do you want me to hurt you, Paul?" Paul nodded. "Yes. Hurt me." Johann leaned down to kiss Paul, their tongues exploring each other's mouths, and pinned his arms down to the bed. Angela pulled two pairs of police-issue handcuffs from Johann's jacket, set one of them down on the bedside table, and grabbed Paul's right wrist. Paul gasped as he felt the cold metal around his wrists and heard the click-click-click of the ratchets. Johann climbed off Paul and flipped him onto his stomach, then grabbed the free cuff attached to Paul's right wrist and latched around the bedpost. Angela licked her lips as she picked up the other set of handcuffs and locked Paul's left wrist to the bed with them. Johann grinned at her. "Would you like to play with him?" he asked, pulling the shortest length of rope from his jacket and threading it through her discarded knickers. "I think I'd enjoy watching you do it even more," she replied. Johann smiled back at her. "Do one thing for me. Take off your blouse and bra. I like girls watching me more when they're naked." Andrea swallowed hard and unbuttoned her blouse, fumbling slightly, and slipped it off. Johann smiled, and slipped the rope under Paul's face and pulled back, forcing the crotch of Andrea's knickers against his mouth, then tied it securely at the back of his head. Paul gave a muffled whimper as the damp cloth pressed against his lips, filling his nose with the smell of Andrea's lust. Andrea unhooked her bra and discarded it, shivering slightly as Johann's gaze ranged hungrily over her naked body. "Oh, yes, Andrea. You are beautiful. I might have to hurt you, too, sometime," said Johann, licking his lips as she shuddered. "You want that, don't you? You want a gay boy to pin you down and tie you up and fuck you and hurt you." Andrea slipped a hand down to her naked crotch and started stroking herself again. Johann nodded. "Not tonight." He coiled Paul's ponytail around his hand and pulled back on it, making Paul whimper with pain and arousal. "I have this boy to abuse tonight." Johann reached into his jacket and pulled out a small bottle of lube. He poured some out into his hand and started stroking his cock. "Oh yes, I shall enjoy abusing you, Paul." He poured more lube between the cheeks of Paul's arse and pressed a finger against his hole. "Relax, Paul," he whispered. Paul willed himself to relax, and moaned muffledly around the rope and cloth stuffing his mouth as Johann's finger slid inside him. Johann sighed, and began gently massaging Paul's prostate. Paul whimpered softly, then gasped as Johann slowly worked a second finger into him, stretching him open. "Oh, yes, Paul," whispered Johann. "You're ready for my cock now." Johann eased his fingers back out of Paul's arse and climbed on top of him. Paul whimpered as he felt the head of Johann's cock pressing insistently against his lubricated hole, then gasped as it slid inside, stretching him and filling him. Johann groaned with pleasure and began to thrust, his cock sliding slowly back and forth, pressing against Paul's prostate and sending waves of pleasure through him. Johann increased his pace, thrusting harder and faster into Paul. Paul groaned as Johann's cock plunged deeper into him, pushing him inexorably towards climax. Johann's groans of pleasure became snarls, his thrusts long and deep as his balls tightened, and then he emptied them into Paul, his cock pumping hard, spraying his come deep inside. Paul whimpered in frustration as Johann's cock slipped from his arse, leaving him on the edge of orgasm. Johann looked across at Andrea, seeing the lust in her eyes, and smiled wickedly. "Andrea, I want you to make this boy come while I mark him," he said, drawing the knife from the belt of his discarded jeans. Andrea eagerly climbed onto the bed and knelt astride Paul's legs, slipping her hand under him to stroke his cock while Johann slowly cut a 'J' into Paul's back. The dual assault on his senses tipped Paul over the edge, and he gave a muffled scream of ecstasy as his come spurted onto the sheets and Andrea's hand. Johann stepped back and admired the letter he'd cut into Paul's back. "You'll remember me, won't you, Paul?" he asked, slipping the knife back into its sheath. Andrea stared across at Johann, then slipped her come-splattered hand out from under Paul and stood up. "Do you do that to..." Johann smiled. "To everyone I fuck? No. Only the ones who want me to fuck them up the arse and hurt them. Blame the Devil." Andrea swallowed hard. "The Devil?" Johann's grin turned nasty. "I sold my soul to him, and he gave me the perfect death metal voice. I don't even need a microphone." Andrea looked confused. "Why does that make you mark people like that?" Johann shrugged. "No soul, no conscience. It amuses me and I can get away with it, so I do it." He reached down and untied Paul's gag. "You enjoyed it, didn't you, Paul?" he asked, smiling as Paul whimpered and nodded.