Posted by Ed on June 27, 2000 at 23:01:26:
Someone responding to my Britney Spears story below asked about celebrity stories, so I wrote this one inspired by another Rolling Stone cover. They outta put warning labels on those things.
(btw wit garroted brevity in a back alley and left her corpse in a dumpster)
That said:
Christina had just completed her grueling shoot for Rolling Stone magazine. In a few days the image of her half-naked, barely-legal body would entice the masses to pay 4.95 for a stale rehash of music biz buzz. She now stood in front of her mirror staring at herself, still in her photoshoot costume: a pair of unbuttoned denim shorts hanging open like a rape-victim's, a pair a dark panties, and a blue "Super Girl" haltertop. She listened to her own hit single on the same discman she had used for the shoot.
Unfortunatly for her, the headphones made it far too easy to sneak up on her. Britney looked at her image in the mirror as she hid out of sight. Christina was cute. Too cute. And she could sing, a little too well. Britney had decided a while ago that there was only room for one girl teen sensation on the charts. She would be it, not Christina.
Britney sidled up behind Christina and got ready. Christina was a little bit taller and thinner than Britney, so she only saw the top of her head, the brown tresses poking up over her slender bare shoulder.
"What the fuck?" Christina swore like a trucker, as everyone in the biz knew. She whirled around, coming face to face with her arch-rival. Britney wore her All-American Girl outfit: a pair of tight leather pants, loose at the ankles, and a leather stars-n-stripes bodice that left her tan and toned arms and belly bare to the world. It had been her own Rolling Stone outfit, and she thought that was fitting.
"Hi Christy!" Britney said brightly and smiled. "What's up?"
"What do YOU want?" Christina snorted. "And don't call me Christy. Only my boyfriends can do that."
"Sorry Christina," Britney said meakly. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your cover."
This perked Christina up a little. She smiled a little. "Really? That's kinda sweet."
"Yeah, I know! I also just wanted you to know that I'm not mad you won the Grammy." She leaned over and put a hand on Christina's arm conspiratorially. "You sooo deserved it."
Christina smiled elfishly and looked down at Britney's hand on her arm. Britney let is slide off good-naturedly, though it had not been unwelcome.
"That's the outfit you wore on the Stone cover last month, right?" Christy asked.
Britney looked down at her own killer bod. "Yeah, it sucks doesn't it? Your outift looks so good on you." Britney smiled stepped closer running a hand up Christina's long, bare belly. "It really... accentuates... your body..." Britney's hand slide down, over Christina's navel to the elastic band of her panties. Britney's soft brown eyes looked up into Christy's cold blue orbs hopefully.
Christina looked down on Britney, taking in her tan, athletic body, sheathed in sexy leather. She hooked a finger into Britney's leather pants and pulled her a step closer. Britney breathed in sharply, staring up into Christy's eyes only a few inches away with entranced desire. Christy only smiled coldly at her power.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" Christina asked.
"Very," Britney breathed.
Christina huffed and pulled away, thin arms crossing under her breasts. "You're bullshitting me."
"Am not!" Britney cried. She reached up and took hold of Christina's shoulder, swiveling her around to face her own full-length mirror. "Just look!"
Christina's eyes critically took in her own features, cataloguing them and comparing them to her chief rival standing beside her. They were a study in opposites: Christina long and slender, pale and blonde. Britney buxom and athletic, tan and brown.
"Do the pose you did for the magazine," Britney urged. "It's so cute! All I did was grab my hair!"
Christina bit her finger in mock shyness. "Oh, alright." She put her headphones on again and pulled her shorts down a little, exposing just a little more of her hips. Her log thin arms trailed to either side, one hand clutching the discman. Naked skin, exposed panties and open mouth coyly licking her upper lip, the image embodied feline, sexual invitation. Sex and music, that was Christina.
Britney smiled in mock devotion. She was set in her task. Christina was enraptured by her own image. Using her own narcissisum against her, Britney struck without warning.
Christina's headphones were knocked violently from her head. She dropped the discman in shock. It unplugged from the headphone cord and shattered as it hit the ground unnoticed. Britney's arms were around her, clutching at the cord roughly.
"Get the fuck off!" Christina snapped, elbowing the clumsy trailer-trash hard in the belly. She heard Britney grunt in pain, but didn't let go. Rather, Britney coiled the edges of the cord around her hands for grip and pulled the length between them taut. Christina eyed the cord warily and tried to pull away. Britney held her from behind with strong arms that wrapped around her. She couldn't turn around or get free. "Britney... what are you doing?" she asked hesitantly.
"Choking the competition, girlfriend. Just business." With a lightning flash motion, Britney whipped the cord around Christina's neck. Christina squealed in surprise and pain as the strong, thin cord squeezed against her throat. She tried to cry out as the cord tightened, and suddenly found she couldn't breath.
Christina's heart pounded as panic coursed through her. Britney was trying to strangle her! With the cord of her own headphones! Was she crazy? Christy thrashed her arms wildly in fear, desperatly trying to break free of Britney's insane hold. Her whole body flailed and thrashed madly, twisting and thrusting against Britney's hold, but Britney held firm, tightening the cord. A wrack of nasuea swept over Christina as she realized she was asphyxiating. She thrust herself forward, sending Britney scuttling wildly after her to keep her hold. Christina made a mad march around her dressingroom, bucking and twisting, trying to throw Britney off of her, but Britney hung on with all her might, knotting her hands at the back of her neck and pulling on the cord.
Christina's lungs were burning, her heartbeat thundered in her head. Britney leaned into her, her arms bulging with the effort of fighting her and keeping the cord tight around her throat, tight enough to kill her. Christina's slinky, slender body was not designed for combat; she couldn't muster the strength to pull away. Britney seemed to grow even stronger as Christina rapidly expended her energy. Soon she was able to force Christina in place, dragging her back in front of the mirror and holding her there. Christina would be forced to watch herself die.
Christina tried to cry out as the cord bit deeper into the tender flesh of her neck. Her hands pawed at the cord, trying to dig under it, pull it away, release its terrible pressure and let the air flow again. Her body screamed for a single breath of air. Never had she felt such need. Her chest heaved, her arms twisted and groped, trying to reach behind her, to rend and scratch her foe. She smacked Britney's jaw awkwardly, but Britney bit her hand away and squeezed tighter.
The room was spinning, she had gone so long without a breath. Her mouth felt like cotton. She could dimly see her swollen tongue tongue in the mirror, sticking out and flapping like a fish. Her body convulsed. Her face was on fire, her whole body. Every fitful heartbeat was agony. Her confused body lurched and gagged as coherent thought melted away.
Britney smiled as she felt Christina's body slowly lose strength. She kicked the back of Christina's knee, buckling her legs. Britney forced the dying pop diva down to her knees. Christy was a powerless as an infant to resist as she was pushed to the ground. She barely had enough strength and control to move, much less struggle. Her body jerked and spasmed mindlessly as Britney's weight pressed her into the ground.
Britney couldn't help but be aroused as she wrapped herself around the dying girl's slender, beautiful and half-naked body. Her legs slid around Christina's bare belly and constricted. Christina gave a low, painful moan as the stale air was forced through her garroted throat and out past her gaping lips.
Christina's body twitched weakly underneath her as the last of her life sparked and misfired through her muscles. Britney enjoyed the sensatation, hugging Christina's prone body tighter to feel the girl's random muscle contractions through her leather outfit better.
Several more times Britney felt Christina stir weakly beneath her, but her weight alone prevented any escape. Christina's body twitched a little more as Britney squeezed out the last drops of life from her long, slender body. One final spasm, and then she was still. Britney still lay entwined around her, still gripping the cord tight around her neck. Britney would take no chances and didn't intend to release Christina's neck until after she was thoroughly dead. Christina would never stir, never take another breath, ever, she would make sure of that. She rolled them both onto their side, no longer needing to weigh her down, rested her cheek comfortably against the comatose girl's bare shoulder and calmly waited for her to die.
Britney lay there awhile, wrapped around Britney's body, hands aching from pulling the cord tight for what seemed like ages. How long did it take to kill a simple girl? Christina should have felt lucky to have such prolonged and intimate contact with her killer, the shared experience was terminal and unforgettable.
During the struggle Christina's unbuttoned shorts had slipped down to her knees. As they laid together Britney slid one foot down Christina's belly and between her bare thighs. As she waited for Christina to die, Britney absently rubbed her heel back and forth against the sexy pop diva's blonde, virgin pussy, just beneath the thin fabric of her panties. Soon she realized her foot was wet.
Christina had wet herself. As her body had relaxed, completely and totally, the urine inside her was released and trickled out in a warm, gentle stream between her legs. It was her final defeat.
Christina was dead, at long last.
At last Britney could release the cord. She cracked her knuckles and eased the painful cramps as she sat up and disengaged from the tangle of Christina's sprawling limbs. She quietly oberserved the young woman's dead body lying beside her, pale and still. Britney crawled over to the other side of her to look at her face, cheek pressed against the ground, mouth agape in her last, frozen effort to breathe, tongue obscenely swollen and extended, cheeks flushed, cold blue eyes staring mindlessly, wide and glazed in death.
Britney smiled to herself. She had done it. She had killed Christina. Now she would be the queen of the Top 40 charts. Her albums would reign.
Her grabbed Christina's shoulder and rolled her onto her back, liking the way her limp arms and legs flopped and rolled as her body turned. Her body was hot and sweaty from her fatal exertions, and Britney was feeling pretty warm too.
Britney took out the photo that would adorn this month's Rolling Stone, comparing the before and after.
"Well Christina, your tongue sure does look good in the picture, but I think I prefer 'after', what do you think?" She looked at Christina's deathmask expectantly. Of course, Christina was well beyond the condition to argue. "No opinion? Alright. It's such a shame though, you went to all the trouble to show off your pretty little panties, and then you go and make a mess in them! You're such a naughty little girl, Christina! A naughty, dead little girl."
Britney put the photo away and observed the former teen-sensation's body for awhile longer. She looked at her shiny "Super Girl" top her corpse still wore. It was pretty ridiculous now. Britney's fingers traced the words, feeling the soft flesh beneath, and the stillness of her heart.
"You're still hot, Christina, in more ways than one. I always wanted to kiss you, Christy, but not if it meant kissing YOU. Now I can." Britney leaned over and took Christina's face in her hands. Her cheeks were feverish against Britney's palms. She leaned in, planting her mouth over Christina's gaping lips and kissing her, long and hard. Britney moaned in pleasure, her hands sliding up into Christina's sweat-drenched blonde tresses, moving her head for her as she tasted the sweetness of her flaccid, dead lips, and sucked on her tongue.
She at last pulled back, gasping. She settled back and touched her lips fondly. "Wow. Too bad I had to kill you, Christina, we could have really had something. Oh well, time to get rid of you."
Britney grabbed a limp wrist and yanked her body into a sitting position. Christina's head fell forward, her hair falling over her ashen face. Britney kneeled down low, laying Christina's upper body along her back and digging her shoulder into her crotch. Forcing her hands under her tight ass, Britney gave a heave and lifted Christina's limp body onto her shoulder like a sack of beets. Her shorts slid down her long, slender legs and dangled on her big toe like a denim flag. Britney laughed and pressed a hand against the warm, wet spot on Christina's panties.
"Ick, Christy!" She yanked the panties off her tight little ass and let them slide down her legs like the shorts had. They knocked the shorts off her foot and both fell into a pile on the floor.
Britney wrapped her arms around Christy's now completely bare legs, hefting her a little to get Christy's balance right, and took a step. Christina was thin, but her dead weight was a handful, and Britney had expended most of her energy killing her. Christy's dangling limbs swayed and bounced with every step, but Britney managed to carry her body out of the dressing room and across the empty studio.
Britney stopped in front of a large trash can and kicked the lid off.
She heaved Christina's dead body uncerimoniously into the trashcan. She grabbed the stray arm and leg that still hung over the sides and slipped them in. Remembering one last detail, Britney walked back and retrieved Christina's discman and discarded shorts and wet panties. She dropped them ontop of Christy's jumbled body and held the lid over, savoring the total and ultimate defeat of her former rival one last time.
However, eying Christina's pristine, blonde, dead cunt, she might have to get one of her bodyguards in here and fuck her pale corpse a few times, just for good measure. It was a thought. She hummed her way out of the studio.
"Oops... I did it again!"