Read Beneath the Stain - Part 5 for Free Online

sex police.”
    The crowd caught its breath at the absurdity.
    “Well, you know, church people.”
    Titters and giggles—oh, naughty Mackey.
    “And they had the balls to hand my mother— my mother—a pamphlet on, get this, ‘The Perils of Masturbation.’”
    The crowd’s gasped cackle was like a gift.
    “And my mother….” Mackey stood up and put one hand on his hip, thrusting his flat abdomen out a little and showing off his newly inked glossy tattoo. “My mother, she said, ‘Do you assholes know how many kids I’d have if I followed your rules?’”
    The laughter began.
    “And I’ve got teenaged boys— three of them! We don’t got no money! Jacking off’s the only thing they can do that’s free and legal! Jesus H. Christ, do you want to raise their babies if they’re out making the whole town pregnant? It’s probably better just to brrrrrrreeeeakkkk the sheets into the washing machine and get on with my life!”
    The crowd was laughing hard by now, and Mackey grinned, pleased as Peter Pan to have the lost boys riding his wake.
    “So there you go, folks. Sound life advice from my mom.”
    Trav saw his glance at Stevie, who started the drum count, low and urgent. Jefferson nodded and picked up the low sex-throb of bass, and Blake and Kell started lacing the air with silver sound.
    “It’s free, it’s legal, and it involves no controlled substances… are you with me?”
    Low muttering replied.
    Mackey started to arch his hips and grunt, not so much as suggesting as simulating. “Are you with me?”
    The next reply was a gorgeous swell of sound.
    “Oh, guys, my boyfriend done been gone a fuckin’ week . Are you with me? ”
    Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh….
    “’Cause it’s free! ”
    “Free!” chanted the band.
    “Legal!”
    “Legal!”
    “And you can’t say no! No! No! No! Don’t take away our….”
    “ Masturbation !”
    The crowd practically rioted as the crackle of the opening chords clanged across the stage.
    Trav had possibly never been so turned-on in his whole life. His sweet little fantasy of rimming Mackey as he opened himself up willingly was replaced by a harder, dirtier fantasy of Mackey with a dildo and a fist, fucking himself until he screamed.
    He was in the back, screaming along with the crowd as the band spanked that monkey and made it their fucking own. Even Debra banged her head through the end of the lyrics, and the song only got hotter after that.
    Toward the end of the song, when the band was riffing, Mackey did something truly terrifying—something Trav knew he did but hadn’t really counted on seeing in person.
    Carefully, using the hands from the crowd, he stepped across the walkway from the stage to the rail holding the crowd back. He held his hand out for his mic and a pretty red-haired girl handed it to him right on cue. Over the sound of his band jamming, he said, “Are you ready? Are you ready? Did I stroke you enough? Are you ready to stroke me back !”
    The crowd roared, and Mackey spread his arms and flew.
    They caught him, hundreds of hands raised to pass him forward and backward as he screamed the refrain, trusting that they wouldn’t let him down. As the song wound down, he gestured back to the rail and was standing again in time for the final chorus, and Trav remembered to breathe. Mackey was covered in sweat, his makeup was running down his face, and he grinned at them, demonic as a rabid child, and they screamed in bloodlust back.
    And then they launched into the next song, and he did it again.
    By the time they hit “The I’m Sorry Song,” which had sort of a poppy, hooky edge that closed down the set nicely, Mackey and the band were sopping, the equipment was starting to short out, and the crowd was exhausted. Trav didn’t even have to look at the lineup to know that the next three bands had been outclassed and outplayed by a group of guys with shitty amps, a crumbling sound board, and a light board that had died in the middle of the set