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I had seen my first Hisham show three years ago, when I was just a little girl, and I was still recovering from the show I saw last year. I'd watched him on stage a total of five times, five spectacular occasions on which I never once pondered what I could do to get more than just a musical show. Until this year that is. The year I turned 18.

I had never considered being a Hisham groupy. My parents made it nearly impossible. At a young age, though I had found my niche. My hair was naturally dark, and it laid straight. I had once worn it long, but now I cute it above my shoulders and curled it out with wax. I had bleeched chunks throughout it, and put in dark red punky color. I wanted to be just like him, you see, so everyone would know my name.

Anyhow, tonight was the first concert I was going to alone, and for the first time my return spot was my own place, an apartment I aquired a few months before now. I like it a lot, esspecially since it was so quiet. I could find myself there. I stood infront of my full length mirror, in utter shock over what I saw. I was only 5'6, but it seemed I had grown curves I didn't know I had overnight. My little black skirt and my tall black boots made my legs look longer than they were, and my black lace tanktop surely showed a lot of clevage. If my mom could see me now she'd be angry with me, but I'd close both of my darkened eyes and look away, and just put on another layer of black lipstick.

So, I grabbed my messenger coffin purse, and my ticket, and went to my car that I had bought last year. I got in and pulled away, ready for the night of my life.

As I stood in the pit area after the show, waiting for maybe an autograph or a word, a man approached me. I was all alone, so it didn't bother me much when we started to talk. He was sort of more professional looking than I'd pictured, but that was just my impression. He asked all kinds of weird questions. Questions about my age, and about my morals.

"Why are you asking me this?" I finally asked, my voice a little offensive.

"I was asked to by the man of the night. I was wondering if you'd like a night with Hisham."

I was shocked. I nodded in disbelief. It made me nervous inside, my stomach full of knots. I followed the man, half alive it seemed, upstairs and through a door on the left. He didn't come in. He left me alone.

There was a black leather couch, and a catering table. I sat on the couch, legs crossed, a bit nervous. That wasn't real. I was really just dead somewhere. That guy really didn't work for Hisham. He couldn't. There was no way. Why would he pick a bean pole like me? I wasn't anything special. I bit my lip and looked around.

There was another door. And it slowly creaked opened. I looked onto the painted face of my idol and was suddenly thrown into shock.

"Hello," he said. "What's your name?"

"My name can be whatever you want it to be," I said, in disbelief.

"Really, what's your name?" he said with a small snicker.

"Britti."

"Well, Britti. Tonight's your night, it seems," he said, a smirk over his face. He stood up and walked to the other side of the room and popped open a bottle of beer. He threw one to me and I looked up at him, eyes wide.

"I'll do whatever you want me too," I was helpless against my mouth. It just kept comming up with these dumb things to say.

"Anything?" he asked, moving closer again. He took a straw and lined something on the table, then snorted. "Let's get this started, then."

Hisham moved back acrossed the room and pushed his body up against mine on the couch, forcing me down on my back, his form between my legs, kissing all over, biting my neck pretty hard. I let out a low growl and leaned forward, nipping his neck a bit harder then he'd done me. Show him right.

"Ow," he said, rubbing his neck. "Fiesty. I like that." He grabbed the bottom of my tank top and yanked it over my head, throwing it acrossed the room where it landed on the table. He tried to unfasten my bra, but unfortunately, he ended up tearing it off in frustration. He looked down at my rosey little nipples, exposed to the world, the flesh around creamy and pale from lack of sunlight. "Oooh," he said, running a fingernail roughly over them, and then pinching one between his thumb and index finger...hard. I groaned and arched my back, but his weight forced me down to my spot. "Stay still." It was a demand. He bent his mouth to my unattended boob and began to bite at my nipple, running his tongue along the flesh, sucking at my tit. I felt myself getting more and more wet in my lower regions, and hot.

He ran one hand down my stomach, his mouth still on my nipple, and unzipped my skirt, easing it off of my body. He lifted his head and manuevered his skilled hands into my panties, pulling them down around my knees as he kissed me, his lips rough and his teeth tugging at my lower lip. I wanted to scream, it was all so incredible. He smiled, pulling away from my mouth quickly, and he untied my boots, flopping them on the ground. I was completely naked. Exposed. For the first time infront of a guy.

Hisham grabbed me up and, his hands on my tight butt cheeks, lifted me level with him. Over his shoulder, he carried me through a door into the next room. I felt something hard against my back when he laid me down, and closed my eyes, wondering what was going to happen. When I reopened them, I realized I was tied down.

"Wha-?"

"Shush." He gave me a wicked smile and I saw him begin to undress. That's when it all became real. And I began to cry. I knew he wasn't going to be nice about any of this. He liked it rough. And I was his play toy. Eveyrthing I had wished for seemed so horrible. I just wanted out.