Britney

Britney

by number2

In honor of Britney's Hawaii special from Wednesday night (and because I really wanted to do a story with her) I wrote the tale below. To make it more of a challenge I decided to try and fit in all of the song titles from Britney's two albums.

I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. I had made my way past all of the security and fond myself face-to-face with her dressing room door. There was a large star on that said simply, in large cursive letters, “Britney”. Nervously I rapped lightly beneath the star. There was no answer so I knocked again louder this time.

“Don’t go knockin’ on my door unless this is real important,” came the response in a Southern drawl that could only be Britney’s. I gulped and knocked again. Moments later I heard the click of the door unlocking and she was right in front of me. She was barefoot, in a white terrycloth bathrobe and was still sweaty from the evening’s performance. Despite her apparent weariness she was radiant in her beauty. I stammered, trying to think of what to say.

“M-ms. Spears, I, uh, really, um, enjoyed your show, and, um I’m a really big fan and…” was about all I managed to say before she interrupted me.

“Well, what is it? Don’t let me be the last to know. What do you want?” she asked angrily.

“Um, I guess I just wanted to meet you… and maybe get an autograph?” I replied meekly.

“Great, another awestruck fan. I guess you figure I was born to make you happy. Well stop wasting my time. Get in here and let’s get this over with.” She beckoned me inside and I followed her like a lost puppy dog. She sat down at her makeup table and crossed her legs. The robe fell away slightly and I got an eyeful of her long limbs. All that dancing had given her great muscle definition in her calves and what I could see of her thighs. Even with my nervousness, I felt a bulge forming in my pants. Britney finished signing her picture and handed it to me.

“Could you get me a soda pop?” she asked sweetly. “They’re right in that little fridge over there.” She pointed to the corner and I did as she asked. “You can get one for yourself if you’d like.” I figured a soda would do me good with my current nervous dry mouth. I brought over a couple of Cokes and handed one to her. She popped the top and it shot out of the can and all over the front of my jeans, soaking them.

“I’m so sorry!” she said reaching for a towel. I put out my hand to take it from her but instead she began to rub down my crotch. I stood there not knowing what to do or say as the teen pop sensation kneaded my hard-on. She didn’t seem to notice (or at least pretended she didn’t) and moments later she unzipped my jeans and pulled them down to the floor. “We’ll have to let these dry. I can’t have you leaving here like this.” I stepped out of my jeans, still not sure what was happening. When Britney looked up, she was eye-level with my hard-on straining inside my boxer briefs.

“Oh my God, that is disgusting!” she yelled, then leveled an uppercut to my balls. The pain was sudden and immense and I fell straight to the floor. Britney stood up and towered over me. “Is that how you treat a lady? I invite you in and you get a, a, a hard-on in front of me? I can’t believe you! You are such a pervert!” She stamped down on my groin. Most of my hard-on was gone but my cock took the brunt of her bare foot.

“Still,” she said, “I guess I could take it as a compliment. And I’m sure you really didn’t mean to do it. It just that sometimes I get so fed up with all these men who treat me like a sex object when I just want to be known as a singer. Here, let me help you up.” She bent over and extended a hand to me. I was still in excruciating pain but for some reason fixated on the opening the top of Britney’s robe, which exposed just a bit of her magnificent breasts, clad in a white bra. I shook off the pain somewhat and got to my feet hoping she hadn’t noticed me gawking.

Suddenly her fist shot into my nutsack again. (I guess she noticed.) “Oops, I did it again,” she said without a hint of malice in her voice as I dropped to my knees again. “I guess if you won’t learn a lesson about how to treat women, I’ll have to teach you the hard way.” With that she leveled a front snap kick to my nuts sending me face down to the floor.

She bent down and pulled my hair, lifting my head from the ground. “Here’s your first lesson in how to treat women. You have to start at the bottom. Kiss my feet,” she ordered me. I began to lavish kisses on her sweaty feet and she reared back and kicked me in the face. “One kiss from you is all I asked for! You have to learn to listen! Typical man! Now get up!” I struggled to my feet and stood before her.

“You remind me of one of my former boyfriends. He had no idea how to treat women either. He was so upset with me just because I prick-teased him but wouldn’t have sex with him that he broke up with me by E-mail. My heart was shattered. It said, ‘I will still love you deep in my heart but I think it is time for us to see other people.’ What a load of crap. I knew I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. I chartered a plane and showed up at his door wearing a Catholic schoolgirl’s outfit, you know, the one from my video, and told him I was finally ready to give it up to him. He stripped down in front of me while I danced for him. When he was completely naked, I had him lie down in front of me and then I stomped his nuts with my saddle shoes until he passed out. Then I wrote on his chest with lipstick, ‘From the bottom of my broken heart to the bottom of your busted balls, Love, Britney.’ He’ll never treat a woman like that again, I’ll bet.”

“Oh well, it’s time for your second lesson.” In one quick move she dropped her robe to the floor leaving her in only a white bra and matching panties. My eyes traveled up and down her magnificent body and settled on her full breasts. “Pretty nice, hunh? A lot of people think that I had some sort of surgery but it’s all real. What you see is what you get. So what do you think?”

“Th-they’re incredible… You’re incredible,” was the brilliant thought that came out of my mouth. Immediately she grabbed my scrotum through my briefs and began to squeeze.

“Your second lesson,” she said as she applied more and more pressure, “is that when you talk to a lady look at her EYES!” Her grip became even stronger and when my eyes finally did meet hers tears had welled up from the pain. She showed no signs of giving up her vise-like grip.

“P-please, st-stop,” I pleaded, using most all of my remaining strength.

“I don’t think you really want me to,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I think you’re getting excited by the pain. Your… thingy seems to be getting harder the more I squeeze. And although your lips are asking me to stop, I know you really want me to when your eyes say it.” She squeezed one more time. “I hope you don’t think I’m getting any satisfaction out of doing this. It’s just to teach you a lesson.”

Finally she released me to collapse on the floor and she sat back down at her make-up table. I could barely make out the devilish grin on the face of the girl in the mirror but I knew that despite her statement to the contrary she was enjoying this. She brushed out her golden locks as I tried to recuperate on the ground. I don’t know how much time went by in silence, but it certainly wasn’t enough to fully recover.

Britney put her brush down. “Okay, where are you now? That’s right, lesson three! Back to pleasing a woman. Even though you were a little overeager with my feet, I think that tongue of yours has some use after all.” She turned her chair toward me and spread her legs. “Crawl over here.” She started a metronome on the table behind her. “I want your tongue to move in time with the ticking,” she stated. “As the beat goes on, you’ll learn how to keep a rhythm and you’ll be able to drive a woman crazy.”

I began to lick her white cotton panties. At first the beat was slow and easy to keep time to but gradually it increased and I attempted to keep up. I felt I must have been doing something right, as Britney’s legs sandwiched my head, pressure building the faster the metronome clicked. Just as my skull felt about to crack, she let out an audible gasp and released me. I looked up and she was panting hard. I guessed that I must have completed at least on of the lessons correctly.

She kicked me in the chest, leaving me flat on my back. “Do that again baby, one more time,” she breathed as she sat on my face. I had no choice but to comply and I could taste her juices staining her briefs. She came faster this time, but instead of tiring her out it seemed to energize her. She vaulted off my face then pulled me to my feet.

“Quickly, get out of your clothes!” I stripped as fast as possible and stood before her, my cock saluting her beauty. “I can’t make you love me, but I can give you something to remind you of me.” Her foot snapped forward and connected with my left testicle driving it up into my body and compressing it totally. I heard a slight ‘pop’ and felt the pulp that was once my nut.

“Now every time you even think about mistreating a girl, I’ll be there. And every time I do a high kick in one of my dance routines I’ll be thinkin’ about you. Maybe we’ll meet again someday. My concert tour comes back this way next autumn. Goodbye.”

With that, she pushed me out into the hall, completely naked and bruised. I wasn’t sure how I’d make it home, but I knew exactly what I would write in my journal. “Dear diary, today I met Britney Spears, and it was a day I’ll never forget…

Song Titles

Lucky

Don't Go Knockin' On My Door

Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know

Born To Make You Happy

Soda Pop

Sometimes

Oops! I Did It Again

One Kiss From You

E-Mail My Heart

I Will Still Love You Deep In My Heart

From The Bottom Of My Broken Heart

What U See (Is What U Get)

Stronger

When Your Eyes Say It

Satisfaction

Girl In The Mirror

Where Are You Now

The Beat Goes On

Crazy

Baby One More Time

Can't Make You Love Me

I Will Be There

Thinkin' About You

Autumn Goodbye

Dear Diary