Brittany Spears and Me

Someone recently sent me a story which had a Brittany Spears theme. It got me thinking.

Do you have any idea how much I hate that girl? I mean really, I can’t stand her. Pop icons in general really piss me off, but her in particular. It isn’t just that she’s put up on some kind of pedestal by corporate America and worshipped from afar by all breathing males between the ages of 9 and 90.

Not only because she’s got more money than me and all my friends and relatives will ever have in our entire pathetic little lives put together. Not because she looks like some catholic schoolgirl supermodel slut who sings songs like “Hit me baby, one more time” and people pretend it’s not about a D/s relationship because she’s so fucking cute.

No I hate her because she ruined my life. People just figure that every girl in her teens must be a Brittany fan. The guys wanna be like Mike, the girls wanna be Brittany. Take my Aunt Sharon for example. Two years ago, on my 18th birthday what did I get? The new Brittany Spears CD.

Do you know what it’s like to open your 18th birthday present and find that? And then have to smile and gush and hug the brainless idiot who splurged 20 bucks on it? The bile is rising in my throat even now, as I remember that precious kodak moment. And that’s just one example!

Well, anyway, this got me thinking. What can I do about it? I probably couldn’t kill her. I mean she has bodyguards and agents and lawyers and 6 zillion fans everywhere she goes. So kidnapping her and cutting her into little itty-bitty pieces and feeding them to crocodiles would probably be kind of hard.

I thought some more. I could kill myself. I could leave a note saying,

“I LOVE YOU BRITTANY SPEARS!!! I’M DOING THIS FOR US!!!”

And that might make her feel bad for, ohhhh, 30 seconds or so. But then I’d be gone, forgotten, and she’d still be out there. Breathing and singing and signing autographs. God! I hate her!

But then I got a better idea. Something I learned from therapy. I could get a little Brittany doll and mutilate it. I could yell at it first and then throw it against the wall and then bash it’s cute little plastic Brittany Spears face in with a hammer before I took an acetalin torch to it. Yeah. That sounded like good therapy.

But then, later, I got an even better idea. I could get a bigger Brittany doll. One of those lifesized ones they advertise in TigerBeat and really smash it. I could use a baseball bat and break her legs. I could use a knife and cut off her boobs. I could hang her upside down from a highway overpass and watch a big semi-truck splatter her all over the countryside. Oh yeah. Therapy with a capital ‘T’.

I was reaching for the phone when I had my best idea. There was an ad in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer (is that even a fucking word??) that said,

“REAL IMPERSONATORS!!

Yeah, really funny. But it said they had a Brittany Spears. So I choked back my laughter and started thinking of all the good therapy I could get from a real fake Brittany Spears. It doesn’t take too much imagination does it? I kept reaching for the phone alright, but it was a different number I dialed.

Her mom answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, I wanna hire a real fake Brittany Spears.”

“Oh! You have the wrong number, sorry.”

“Fuck!!” I screamed and slammed the phone down. It wasn’t her mom.

I dialed the right number, more slowly this time.

“Real Impersonator’s.” It was a fat bored balding mustachioed sounding man with a plate of chicken wings on his lap. But I’m just guessing.

“Hi, I wanna hire a real fake Brittany Spears.”

“Okay, it’s a hundred bucks for a halfday, evenings it’s 150. What’s the occasion?”

“Huh? Occasion?” I needed an occasion just to get a real fake Brittany Spears? Jeeeesus!

“Yeah, babe…Birthday party? Fund raiser? What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s a therapy thing…Uh, like for emotional therapy.”

“You mean mentals? You wanna get a real fake Brittany Spears for a buncha retards? Is this a joke?”

“No, it isn’t a joke. When can she do it?”

“Sounds weird kid, I don’t know.”

“What’s weird? One afternoon, one hundred bucks right? And mentals tip big, dincha know??”

“Right, okay…what day? She’s pretty booked. Everybody loves Brittany.”

“Whenever, when’s her first opening?”

“The 19th, sound okay?”

“Yeah, sounds great. She sings and everything right?”

“Course she sings, does that ‘Baby hit me one more time’ thing. You’re gonna love it!”

A credit card later and so it was, the real fake Brittany Spears was coming to my house. I started feeling better already.

***

She was standing on my porch with her hair in blonde pigtails. A tight white cotton blouse unbuttoned and knotted in the middle of her chest. A short little checkered skirt and knee high white socks. She looked a little older maybe, a little less perfect. But she’d do.

I opened the door and said, “Hi Brittany!” and smiled real big and then I hit her over the head with my dad’s baseball bat.

She went down like a sack of potatos…oh that reminds me of a joke: Two potatoes are standing on a street corner, how can you tell which one is the prostitute? It’s the one with the little sticker that says “Idaho”

I dragged her in the house by her feet watching her little skirt ride up, then I closed the door.

I tied her wrists together and managed to hang her from the hook in the ceiling that used to hold my spider plant in a crochet thing I made in 7th grade. The plant died, but the hook was still there. Brittany was heavy, but not too bad. I was really determined!

So she was hanging there by her arms with her feet about 6 inches off the floor. She looked cute and I got that CD my Aunt Sharon had given me from my dad’d room. He liked it so I gave it to him. He probably masturbates while he listenes to it and lookes at the pictures in the little booklet that came with it. But I don’t blame him. He’s only a guy.

I turned on the stereo and she started waking up. She looked really scared and she opened her mouth to say something but all that would come out was “HEEEEEELLPPPP” and that pissed me off right away. So I punched her right in the guts as hard as I could and she shut up after that.

I sat down on the sofa and I told her what I wanted to do. “I need therapy…”

She just looked at me even more scared.

“I need therapy and you’re going to help me, Brittany. I have a lot of problems in my life and some of them are your fault! So you owe me. First I’m going to yell at you a little bit and see how that makes me feel. And then I’m going to beat you up, because I know that will make me feel good. And then….” I paused dramatically. “I’m going to kill you, because I hate you Brittany. And then I’m going to bury you in the backyard.”

I looked at her, expecting a response. But she just blinked at me with her deep blue eyes. So I started yelling at her.

I screamed and I shouted everything you can imagine. I blamed her for everything, from the Earth being round to shit smelling bad. I cussed and swore and threatened and hissed and barked like a dog. I vented everything I had ever had to swallow down when I talked to my dad, my teachers, the police, everybody…It all came out! And when I couldn’t think of anything more, I printed out some of RipperX’s Rants and screamed them into her teary frightened face. God, it felt good too.

I took a break and got some iced tea for my raw throat.

When I came back I told her I wanted her to sing the ‘Hit me baby one more time’ song. She said no and started yelling for help. So I turned on that song on the stereo, turned it way way up to. And then I started punching her. Like Rocky or something, I punched her in the stomach, in her boobs, in her pussy, in her sides, in her thighs, and in her mouth. As hard as I could too. Not like little girlie punches. I was smackin the hell out of her. And I think she liked it.

I know I did. I was getting all sweaty and when I stopped she was just real limp. Really sweaty too and crying softly. There was a little blood from her cut lip, but not too bad. I was itchy. Really good therapy always gets me horny for some reason. I took off my shorts and pulled my panties down so I could rub myself.

I was masturbating in front of Brittany Spears after I kicked her ass!! I was going to cream any second! I stuck my hand under her skirt and felt her damp panties. Oh yeah, she liked it. How could any slut like her sing a song like that and not get off on it? I fingered her while I did myself, but she just wriggled and moaned a lot. I’m pretty much a screamer when I cum, but my voice was a little hoarse from all that yelling earlier, so we were both kind of quiet for awhile.

I almost started feeling bad as I massaged her soft inner fold with my fingers, maybe I’d gotten it all out of my system just by beating her up and calling her names. But no, there was still a fire burning in my belly when i looked up at saw those pigtails. I went into the kitchen to get a real big sharp knife.

She was more alert when I got back. She was wiggling and trying to kick me a little, but she wasn’t very good at it. I pressed the point to her tummy and told her to settle down. “You settle down, you!” I said. And she did.

I left her skirt on, but cut her panties away. I pushed the handle of the knife into her vagina. “Hold this for me.” And then I untied her blouse. She had really nice breasts, and they looked kind of fake. Brittany had a boob job, I remembered, but she’d denied it.

“Are these real?” I asked and I pressed my palms against them, rolling the soft flesh under my fingers. I didn’t feel anything, no silicon, or saline, or whatever they’re using these days. And she didn’t have any scars, not yet anyway.

“Yesss…” She moaned. “They’re reaaaaal!!! Owwwww!!” She cried out when I dug my long fingernails into her firm boobs. I pulled and twisted and pushed them this way and that. I tried to yank them off, but all that happened was the knife slipped out of her pussy and landed on the carpet with a soft thud.

I bent down real careful to pick it up because I thought maybe she’d try to kick me in the head. But she didn’t. I sniffed the handle and touched it with my tongue. “You got my knife all wet! You slut!” I said, but I was smiling. She was begging me to let her go. She was saying she was Melanie and went to college and blah blah blah…Who cares?

“No, you’re Brittany Spears. And I’m going to cut off your nipples.” That shut her up real quick! I pinched her left nipple between my finger and thumb and brought the razor edge of the knife to her taut flesh. She was crying then, whimpering and saying no, please, I’m Melanie, I’m sorry, I want to go home, and stuff like that. As if I’d believe anything someone would say while they had a knife pressed to their nipple, yeah right! Melanie my ass!

I cut her nipple off in one quick slice. God! What a lot of blood too! It didn’t really shoot out, just kind of spilled out of the dime sized wound, a quick stream of crimson flowing down her milk white skin. I looked at her nipple in my hand and I brought it to my mouth, pinching the erect dark nipple between my lips while I reached for the other one. She was sobbing and her whole body writhing like a windchime in a tornado. It was pretty amazing and I had to wait, standing there patiently, sucking her severed nipple until she calmed down.

A few minutes later I pulled the other one and brought the slightly stained steel blade to her breast and with a quick flick of the wrist i cut it clean away. I stepped back, watching her do her painful dance all over again. She was so beautiful like that!

Damn! I said to myself, Brittany sure can dance! Her mouth was open, but no sound was coming out. She was holding her breath and I wondered how long she could do it. I put both of her nipples on a little plate I got in the kitchen and brought them back into the living room.

The blood had run down her breasts, down her stomach and thighs and even down her legs. But I think it mostly stopped after about 10 minutes or so. Her blouse was stained, and so was her skirt. But that just made her look better i thought. By this time she was breathing again too. Sobbing and her body quivered pleasantly. I looked at the plate and thought something was missing.

I rubbed my aching clit softly, petting myself while I thought about it. I had cut Brittany Spears’ nipples off!! God! what a feeling. I felt so empowered finally. I had to sit down and fuck myself for about 8 minutes. As I was exploding in orgasmic ecstacy I realized what was missing.

I slapped her face lightly. “Hey Brittany. Hey! Hey Brittany!” She was in shock I think, but she came around. “I’m going to cut off your labia. Both of them, the outer ones…Maybe the inner ones too. Just thought you’d like to know.”

She struggled briefly, but not very much. She was pretty tired by this time. I took off her skirt and looked at her wet pink sex. She had a neatly trimmed blond bush and I pushed my face against it. She smelled sweet, like strawberries, underneath the pungent odors of sweat and pleasure. Wow! I thought, she’s really getting off on this. That kind of turned me on even more and I stood up to look at her.

“Do you like this Brittany? You like being cut up?” She moaned. “Come on, you can tell me…I’m your biggest fan now! I love you Brittany!”

She moaned and her lips moved in a breathless whisper. “Yesssss….I like it…”

I fucked her slowly with the knife handle. “You like what Brittany?”

“I…I…Like being cut…” She whispered. She added softly, “…Mistress…”

I almost came right then!! I was Brittany Spears’ Mistress, her sadistic Domme. Ohhhh yeah! Like a dream come true, this was better than therapy! Nobody was ever gonna believe this!!

“I’m going to cut your pussy lips off…Do you want that Brittany?”

“Ohhhhh…yessss…” She said it through clenched teeth as I worked the knife in and out of her juicing sex.

“And your clit too!”

“Oooooooohh” Another groaning shiver ran through my personal dangling Brittany Spears.

But first I wanted to give her one last good orgasm. I mean, we are like sisters you know. I’m not totally heartless, and she was being such a big help to my emotional recovery! So I went to my knees for Brittany Spears. Like everyone else on this whole fucking planet. And I licked and kissed and sucked her sweet pussy until she wrapped her legs around my neck and started choking me really tight!!

She locked her ankles and squeezed her thighs, I couldn’t breath!! I was suffocating on Brittany Spears’ cunt! My mind started screaming at my body to do something! I couldn’t go like this, no way! I wasn’t going to die on my knees sucking Brittany Spears off!

It was really exciting though, don’t get me wrong. I love asphyxia and my body was shuddering through tiny little orgasms, hundreds of them it seemed like while I tried to pull her legs apart, or bite her, claw her, pull away from her, anything! But she was too strong. Things were just starting to go black and I knew I was done when luckily, my dad came home.

He got me out of that mess in a hurry. As I lay on the floor gasping for air, waiting for my vision to return, and massaging my burning sex as another, better orgasm screamed through me, I could tell he wasn’t happy. But after I explained this was Brittany Spears and I was using her for therapy he looked a little less pissed.

“Brittany Spears, eh?” He looked at her closely. “Yeah, she does look like her!” He started rubbing his crotch and I made my way to my knees so I could unzip him. “Wish you hadn’t cut off her nipples though!”

“Sorry daddy.” I said as I opened my mouth and took his rigid penis between my lips. I sucked him slowly while he rubbed his hands across her body. The blood was still sticky, I know because when he took my face in his hands and started mouth fucking me I could feel it.

He pushed me off his cock and told me to get his belt. Ohh this was going to be good! Nobody spanks like my dad! I ran up the stairs two at a time and down the stairs 3 at a time. I gave daddy his belt, the thin one I like so much and watched him fold it over. He started whipping Brittany Spears’ ass hard and fast.

Not a lot of foreplay with my daddy, he just goes for it and I think this took Brittany by surprise. She wailed and screamed and cursed him between sobs. But none of that ever works, believe me, I know. He whipped her until her ass turned dark red, with welts rising from the once perfect smooth skin. I watched both of them, alternating between him and her, and breathed with heavy excitement. When my dad was done he handed me the belt and told me to have a little taste.

So I whipped her too, from the front. I cracked that belt across her hips, her soft rising mound, and flat tummy. I went lower, tanning her thighs and letting the cruel leather lick at the soft little fat around her narrow waist. I made her spread her legs so i could whip that pussy that had almost killed me and when I was tired and smiling and happy my daddy fucked her in the ass.

He wasn’t gentle either, not like he is with me. He pushed into her roughly, as deep as he could with the first penetration. he was lifting her with his arms and his hips, grunting loudly as he pushed his long thick cock into her tight ass. I was a little jealous watching them. She had a glazed, stupid look on her face and probably didn’t even know where she was anymore. And that’s how I knew it was time to gut her.

I pushed the knife into her lower tummy, just above her sex with the ultra-sharp edge facing up, I yanked it with both hands up to her sternum and stepped back as Brittany’s intestines spilled out all over the carpet. Her teeth were chattering when I did this and her eyes flew open, but they weren’t bright anymore.

My daddy was still humping away, ignoring me, but I could tell it was good for him. Her body was tightening reflexively, squeezing his hard cock and then releasing it as her body went slack. Blood poured out of her and I knelt down, washing my face and breasts and pussy in it as it flowed over me. I fingered my wanton sex mercilessly, rubbing Brittany’s dead entrails across my body until I came with an earth shattering roar of delight. My daddy was cumming too, shooting his creamy spunk deep inside his favorite pop icon wetdream.

Epilogue: I feel much better about myself now that I know Brittany Spears is dead. My dad grounded me for a month, and made me clean everything up. That was before he found out I’d used his credit card to pay for Brittany. When he got that bill he grounded me for another month and spanked me raw! I didn’t sit down for a week!! Not that I had the chance anyway, he fucked me like 4 times a day for a week too. His viagra shipment arrived or something, I don’t know. Well, that’s it. just thought you’d like to know about Brittany and me. Bye.

the end

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