First story ever, came out of a chat with HellResident. If you don't know what Nightwish is, well, there's wikipedia lol. Have fun with my little contribution to the community, and Ill take any comments you want to share.
Show night in Helsinki, Finland, last show of an explosive tour for the band Nightwish. A tour the band promised would end in the same explosive way as it began. And it did. Really.
It had been rumored for some time that Tarja Turunen, the lead singer of the symphonic metal group was having differences with the band. Honestly, that is not surprising at all in a band. Still, like always, the fans made a big deal about it, flamed the internet forums…well, they made a big fuss about it. For many, the band would not be the same without her. Others did not think so. The band however, had made a decision.
It came to be true, the band had decided Tarja was ruining everything for them, with her pompous gloating of her ongoing solo career. Everyone knew about it, but the band had decided to finish the tour, the fans deserved that at least. And Tarja was to be given, despite their differences, a very fond farewell by her former band mates.
The crowd screamed, and sweated after incessant headbanging. Eardrums trembled with the cheers and shouting. The band had performed their last song, and was ready to leave, without bowing to the public. If you have gone to a metal show, you know what that means.
“One more, one more!” yelled the crowd for 2 long minutes. Some people were getting impatient. You know who they are. But, the true fans waited, and waited, whistled and screamed. A few joked about the band opening a trap door and sending Tarja to her demise, like in a cartoon. But then there was a thunderous drum solo, then…one last track.
Tarja Turunen was wearing a sexy corset dress, tight at her torso, long goth-like skirt flowing beneath her, the same way her wavy black hair flowed down. She was sexy. Every male metalhead there knew it. And many girls too. Her skirt was black as night, her lip gloss purple, and the top of her dress, which went up to her chin and covered her neck, was red and black. Not very different from how she always dressed actually…hmmm.
Drumming fired away, the last guitar chords died out, and it was time for the “Thank yous I love you all”. Tarja’s last concert with the band. Not a tear in her eyes :( She was happy she was leaving. Finally she could have the fame she always wanted, be bigger than life itself, bigger than Nightwish, bigger than the fans. She certainly had the voice of a goddess. Backstage, before that last song, she had insisted to sing one of her songs from one of her singles, and the band had refused. I mean, come on. They had formerly asked her to leave. She knew the reasons, and now, on Nightwish’s last concert with her, she wanted to sing one of her songs?! The band mates looked around uncomfortably, not wanting her to start one of her princess tantrums. Tuomas, band founder and keyboardist, rolled his eyes, and said:
“Tarja, please. The fans are waiting for Nightwish. We owe it to them. At least give them that, now that Nightwish means nothing to you”
“You are right Tuomas, Nightwish means nothing to me. Nor do the fans. They are Tarja fans, and if they are not, screw them!”
She stormed out, and stopped at the water cooler to get a drink. Emmpu, the guitarist, looked at Tuomas, and whispered: “Yes man, definitely. Lets do it” Tuomas nodded, and they all headed to the stage, to play one last song. Tarja joined them. It seems the band mates had finally won a battle with Tarja’s ego! Great then, but also, they had won the war!
Tarja was thanking the public, but not smiling much. Tuomas took up a microphone, and addressed the crowd. He said nothing special. He was repeating again and again it was Tarja’s last show with the band. It said so in the ticket, but he still reminded people. He was talking about all the great times they had gone through together, and the bad ones.
Wait, the bad ones?
“Tuomas, how dare you slander me in front of MY public?” she yelled at him.
“Well Tarja, like I said, this is Nightwish’s public, and we now say good bye to you, the Nightwish way…actually, not the Nightwish way, but a fun way anyway” he laughed, and threw away his microphone. Tarja was clearly humiliated. Some people screamed at her from the first row, and she screamed back. Some called her bitch, whore, slut. She yelled that back at them (at the lady fans of course).
From backstage came out a hot finnish girl. Golden hair like the mead rivers in Valhalla, shapely and curvy like the green hills. She was voluptuous. Yes, that’s the word. This blonde Viking princess gave Tuomas what looked like a cylinder. Tarja wasn’t noticing. For someone so self centered, she should be minding her surroundings more.
What did Tuomas did to Tarja? Did Nightwish conquer the world without her? What did the fans feel when she called some of the guys sluts? Find out on the next episode of…
(actually, find out now. Lets say a day has gone by, ok?)
The blonde beauty had gone out the stage, and Tuomas pushed a cylinder to the center of the stage with one of those carts they use to carry them, obviously.
Tarja was busy yelling at those who dared hate her grandeur, and didn’t notice when Tuomas got close, and took the microphone off her hands, as calm as can be. The other band mates remained at their positions. She slowly turned, weary from yelling so much. She looked at Tuomas with contempt.
“What?” she asked
“Nothing, just this” he said to her, and plugged a hose, attached to the cylinder, into her mouth.
Stunned, she stepped back, just as Tuomas turned the cylinder’s knob all the way. He put the microphone he took from Tarja beside the tank. A hissing spread across the thousands of ears in the crowd.
Tarja’s sexy cheekbones were quickly filled out by the tank’s air, building pressure up. Her eyes shot open wide, and she moaned desperately. She looked around to make sense of what had happened. Her mind came to and she balanced herself and she felt a tightness around her upper body. She felt immensely bloated, emergency room bloated. She felt it build up, going from her face, spreading down the length of her arms, torso and legs. Her whole body straightened and stood rigid. She felt as if she was wearing a big, poofy jacket, but the jacket was actually the pressure. Her eyes were open wide. She could see everything clearly. She slowly lowered her head to see Tuomas there, laughing, alongside Emmpu. The immense pressure sat at her corset, making it painfully tight as her torso had no room to expand from the air. So, her thighs, hips and shins expanded with air rapidly, almost a foot every second. Her waistline expanded too, where it could, giving the corset pressure all over. Her arms were outstretched, and swelling like balloons. Like tiny sausages, her fingers plumped up. With all the air the goddess had let out with her voice, it felt defeating to have so much go in.
Tuomas and Emmpu each grabbed softly a bloaty arm, and slowly turned Tarja.
“There Tarja, face your public”, said Emmpu. He chuckled, and let go.
Tuomas did too, and there stood Tarja, facing a cheering public, singing finnish farewell songs (are there any?).
Tarja’s butt now looked humongous. It was 2 meters wide, and several overinflated feet in thickness. Tarja felt she couldn’t hold anymore, and just then, she felt a sort of relief. But it was not what she expected. Her skirt rubbed against her hugely inflated legs as she floated upwards, butt first. She moaned in fear and anger, and the crowd cheered her on. It was her show now after all, just like she had always wanted.
She wanted to wave her arms in desperation, but they were just too inflated. Her breasts created a huge cleavage as they tried to hold the pressure in. Tuomas went up to her, and put a microphone over her highly pressured body. The deep hissing, and creaking of her body, blowing up outwards was heard through everywhere. Everyone was delighted.
Tarja floated even more, to the length of the hose. Everyone laughed and cheered, especially the girls had called her bitch earlier. Some of them waved goodbye to her, smiling ear to ear.
Finally, not wanting to let her fans down, Tarja inflated all over as her corset gave up (it held there like a champion. Give it a round of applause). Her whole torso inflated to the proportions of her butt, which had already tripled. She bobbed slowly in the air, parading herself to her public, all eyes on her, everyone proud of her.
She wanted to scream, but all came out of her mind were the balloony thoughts of the inflated, and she moaned and squeaked, as her body reached its limit. The band started playing along with the crowd, merrily singing farewell. The hose popped out of Tarja’s mouth audibly, and instead of rocketing backwards into oblivion, her puffy lips shut close, and the helium was tight over her body, unable to go out. She moaned desperately at everyone, flaming with her eyes, surely wanting to scream out “You traitors, my fans, you love me!! Please, you love me!!!” But all that came out were muffled cries noone could hear, because of the singing and all.
So Tarja went away floating. She was out of the band now definitely. Actually, she didn’t go out of the band, she went up.
“Goodbye Tarja” said Tuomas into a microphone. “I Feel For You, my Stargazer. The public is Forever Yours, but you now have to leave”
With the thunderous ending of the show, the cymbals rang, on cue with a soft pop up above.