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Starstruck (Call Me Americana #2)

by Sigma

I

Brenda stood in front of her television, watching as a scantily clad pop star in bright pink with long blonde hair belted out an infectious bubblegum-pop number with choreographed dancers all around her.

The end of the video came up and the credits said the song was titled “Starstruck” and the singer’s name was Electra Nova. Brenda turned to find Freya sitting on the couch, bobbing her head and humming even as the song ended.

“What do you think?” Freya asked.

“Absolutely not,” Brenda said before walking off.

Freya got up and followed her. “Why not? It’s good exposure.”

“I’m not going to bodyguard for some pop princess,” Brenda told her.

“But she asked for Americana specifically.”

“No,” Brenda persisted. “And why do you care anyway?” She then paused. “...We’re not broke are we? Shit...am I going to have to get a job?”

“No,” Freya assured her. “It’s just…” she hesitated. “...I’m a fan of Ms. Nova’s,” she admitted.

“...Seriously?”

“Don’t judge me!” Freya said. “Anyway, she is in town but her show sold out instantly. If Americana was her bodyguard, perhaps she could sneak a certain superfan into the venue…?” Freya said, batting her eyelashes.

Brenda groaned. “….Fiiiine. I’ll do it for you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Freya said, hugging her.

“You know you’re too old to be listening to that stuff,” Brenda chastised. “You should be going to like...I don’t know...jazz concerts or something.”

“I’m too elated to care that you just called me old,” Freya said. “I’ll set it up!” she squealed happily before leaving.

“You owe me one, Freya!”

“Yes I do!”

II

The next day, somewhere deep in the halls of the Delta City Forum, Electra Nova, pop star extraordinaire, stood in a room with a handful of fans, who stood transfixed on the blonde beauty. She was average height, with an athletic build, and wore a tight, bright pink dress with a black jacket over it.

“I just want to thank you all, my Supernova VIPs, for being with me here today. I couldn’t do any of this without all of you,” she said with a big, bright smile.

Americana stood off to the side with a tall, older man who had introduced himself as Mr. Bright, Electra’s manager, and they watched as she talked to her fans.

“I’ll level with you, Americana,” Mr. Bright said. “This whole thing about you being Electra’s bodyguard, it’s for show. We have competent security, she just asked you here for the optics and photo ops.”

“I figured,” Americana said.

“Still, thank you for coming. Electra’s promised to donate a portion of the merch sales to a charity of your choice as thanks. All you need to do is hang back, enjoy the free food and snacks, and take a picture or two. We just ask that you stay around until a little bit after tonight’s concert.”

“All right…” Americana sighed.

“If you need anything, let me know,” he said to her before walking off to deal with another aspect of the show.

Americana sighed and folded her arms. She watched the room, and the crowd of Electra’s VIP fans in particular, amazed at how enthralled they were by her. Americana admitted inwardly that Electra was extremely attractive, and she did like her outfit, but she also thought there were better uses of her time and weighed just leaving. Then she remembered her promise to Freya. So she continued watching the crowd. She then picked out one guy in the ground. He wore a hoodie and had his head down. Brenda unfolded her arms and rounded the crowd, getting closer to Electra. Security was near the door, on the other side of the room.

After a few moments, the man in the hoodie moved forward.

“I love you, Electra! We’ll die together!” He screamed. There were shouts as a knife appeared in his hand and he made a move for the starlet. Americana was on him in an instant. She grabbed his knife hand, kneed him hard in the stomach, and took him down, wrenching his arm behind him. It was over in seconds and everyone gave them room.

Americana held him there until security came over and took him away. Americana stood up and saw everyone staring at her.

“Oh my god!” Electra said, putting her hands on Americana’s shoulders. “Everyone, this is the perfect time to introduce you to a very special guest, Delta City’s Queen of Justice, Americana! She just saved my life!”

There was applause and Americana was taken aback by the sudden flood of attention. She muttered a thanks and tried to step away, but found herself surrounded on all sides by fans holding out pieces of paper. One girl pulled her top and bra down, holding out a marker and wanting Americana to sign her tit. The heroine was overwhelmed, and so she relented and, with a strained smile, began signing autographs.

“Everyone…” Electra said meekly, robbed of her attention. “Hey...I’m right here…”

*

The door to Electra’s private dressing room slammed shut after she stormed in, followed closely by Mr. Bright.

“That CUNT!” Electra screamed at the top of her lungs. “How fucking dare she?!”

“Kaylee,” Mr. Bright said. “Calm down. She saved your life from that nut case!”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Electra said. “Those are my fans! They came to see me! Not that hag!” She fumed, stomping around her dressing room. She took a deep breath. “I’m gonna bring her down, show her who the fucking queen is. You’re going to help me.”

“Kaylee, calm down,” Mr. Bright told her again. “You’re overreacting.”

“Dennis,” Electra said to him, getting in his face. “Unless you want to go back to selling used cars in Bumfuck, Ohio, you will do what the fuck I tell you. Is that understood?”

Mr. Bright sighed. “Yes, Kaylee…”

“Good,” Electra said, breathing deep. “Now...get me a couple of stage hands. Tell them I want to see them….”

III

Americana walked through the darkened halls of the Forum before she found an out of the way loading dock. She looked around to make sure she was alone and then opened a door that was locked from the outside.

Freya was on the other side, wearing an Electra Nova tank top and a big grin.

“Oh my god…” Americana groaned.

Freya hugged her again and then looked at Americana. “Thank you again for this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t get caught, all right?”

“I will be as a ghost,” Freya said before walking off.  

“Wait,” Americana said.

“What is it?”

“I need money for the vending machine. It has those little sandwich cookies I like,” Americana told her.

Freya went into her pocket and took out her wallet. “I told you that costume should have something with pockets instead of a thong, but you wouldn’t listen.” 

“Freya, I will push you back out that door.”

Freya glared and gave Americana a 5 dollar bill before walking off.

*

Before long, Americana found the vending machine and put the money in, having enough to get two packs of cookies. She opened one, sat on the ground and began eating in silence. Two crew members walked past her and glanced at the heroine as she stuffed her face, and she simply nodded to them and kept eating.

After a few more minutes of solitude, Americana turned to see Mr. Bright frantically round the corner and look in her direction. He then ran toward her.

“Americana!” he called out. He stopped to catch his breath. “Come quick! Electra’s in trouble!”

“Oh, shit!” American said, scarfing down the last of her cookies before getting up and following him.

Before long, the two of them reached an isolated store room and find Electra backed against the wall. In front of her are a half-dozen men wearing all black, with cheap Halloween masks on their faces.

“Help!” Electra cried out.

The masked men turned around and saw Americana, who charged. They didn’t seem to want to fight her, but they caught of flurry of punches and kicks, and got thrown around by the heroine until, one-by-one, they were all on the floor, out cold.

Americana sighed and looked at Mr. Bright. “Go get security,” she said. She then knelt down and took one man’s mask off. “Wait a minute...isn’t this man on your stage crew?” she asked Electra. She then took another man’s mask and recognized him too. It was the same for the remaining four. “What the hell is going on here?”

She then jumped when someone put a rag on her face and, out of instinct, inhaled deep, filling her lungs with chloroform. Her eyes felt heavy, her body went limp, and the heroine fell unconscious and collapsed to the floor when Electra let her go.

“Dumb cow,” Electra said, nudging her with her foot. She then grabbed Americana’s arms and looked up at Bright. “Get her legs.”

“This is wrong…”

“Don’t make me fucking tell you again,” Electra hissed.

Mr. Bright glared at her and grabbed the heroine’s legs.

IV

Americana woke up when someone slapped her across the face. She jumped up and when everything came into focus, she was in a narrow, unfamiliar room with familiar faces staring at her. They were all young men and women, and it took a moment, but the heroine realized they were all Electra’s VIP fans.

“Wh...what’s going on?” American asked. She then realized her hands were bound behind her and realized she had handcuffs on. It took her a moment longer before she realized she was sitting on a toilet in a bathroom stall, the porcelain cold against her bare ass. “Why am I handcuffed? Where’s Electra??”

“Right here, twat.”

The fans parted and Electra walked forward, smirking.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Electra knelt in front of the captive heroine. “You came in here and stole my thunder. When you took down that guy with the knife, suddenly you were the only thing anyone cared about.”

“What…?” Americana said.

“Don’t play stupid! You upstaged me!”

“Electra, I was trying to save your life!” Americana explained, just to get a slap across the face.

“Don’t talk back!” Electra told her before stuffing a rag in her mouth. She then left the stall and walked past her fans. They watched Americana while Electra turned to face them.

“Everyone, listen please,” she said with a pleasant demeanor. “I invited you all here because you’re my Supernova VIPs. I just want you all to know that I love each and every one of you very much. And because you all are so special to me, I’m going to offer you a special gift. For just $20, you can have your way with Delta City’s Queen of Justice!”

Americana’s eyes went wide and she screamed in her gag while kicking her legs and trying to get free. She watched as the first few fans gladly handed money over to Electra and then two of them crowded the entrance to the stall, a skinny guy with glasses and a shorter guy with long hair.

“I want to thank you all for leaving your phones outside,” Electra said. “This should be a special moment between us friends,” she smiled. “Be gentle with her,” Electra cautioned. “Everyone should get a turn, okay?”

The two young men agreed and went in while the other fans, five others by Americana’s count, waited.

“Now,” Electra said, “While you all wait, why I don’t go around and we can chat. You can tell me anything you want. Your name, your story, your hopes, dreams, and fears. Remember, I’m here for you and I just want you all to be happy. We have plenty of time before I need to get ready for the show, so there’s no rush.”

Americana tried to get away as the two fans came on. The long-haired guy looked her busty body over, licking his lips as he approached. He then grabbed the heroine’s tits under her bikini top, and she squealed and squirmed while trying to get free.

“Electra!” Americana raged after spitting out the rag. “I’ll get you for this! And all of you pasty nerds too!”

“Awww, that’s so mean!” Electra fake pouted. “See how mean she is everyone?”

“Your music sucks!” Americana cried out as the fan with glasses climbed over the long-haired fan and got onto her side. He slid a hand down her panties and began fingering her while the first fan continued fondling her tits. Within moments, her bikini top was off and her bottoms were around her ankles. The long-haired fan had a tit in his mouth and the other in his hand while the one with the glasses continued fingering her.

Their breathing, and Americana’s was heavy and ragged, and she tried to fight the sense of pleasure she was feeling from having her body toyed with, but it was a losing battle. Just as she was being sucked, fingered, and fondled, a third fan came to her other side and unzipped his pants. He pulled out a stiffened cock and put it in the captive heroine’s mouth. Her head bobbed back and forth, a hand grabbed a fistful of her hair, and the sensations of pleasure kept piling on.

In the background, she could hear Electra talking with another fan, but she couldn’t focus on the words or anything that was happening thanks to the three-way assault she was under. She wrapped her tongue around the erect shaft in her mouth. The chain on the handcuffs around her wrists rattled, and she could feel herself growing increasingly wet as the fingers moved around inside of her. A thumb toyed with her clit and teeth bit at her nipple. Americana didn’t want to acknowledge it, but she was enjoyed every pleasure-filled second of it.

As time passed and pleasure mounted, her senses began to grow cloudy. She felt the cock in her mouth shudder and fill her mouth with warm, sticky cum that spilled out and trickled down her jaw. She felt fingers go in up to the knuckle and slip of out of her before they rubbed her own juices on her naked thighs. She felt people pull back, only to be replaced by other fans when Electra told them it was their turn.

Americana breathed heavily, her eyes glossed over and her tits heaving as she tried to come to her senses. She looked up when someone else walked in and saw it was a girl. She had short, black hair and large, pierced tits. Americana looked at what she thought was a tattoo on the girl’s right tit and realized it was the autograph she left there only a few hours ago. When Americana looked down, she realized the girl was naked except for a large, red strap-on around her waist.

Electra appeared over the girl’s shoulder and smiled, putting her arm around her. “Americana, this is my friend Paige. She’s the only girl joining us for this, so you need to treat her extra special.”

Paige grinned and waved. Electra gave her a hug and then backed off.

Americana could only look at the sizable strap on Paige had on around her waist and brace herself as the girl mounted her. Paige pushed Americana’s legs apart and slid the dildo home, making the heroine groan as she was penetrated. Paige then put her hands on Americana’s hips and began thrusting, in and out, and making the heroine back up against the back of the toilet.

Paige’s tits, with their pierced nipples, were a pair of healthy Double-Ds that swung back and forth with her motions, and Paige herself was on the slightly chubby side. She rubbed her hands down American’s cum-slicked chest before making the heroine lick it off her fingers. Americana gasped and Paige kissed her, long and hard, without every breaking her pace of thrusting.

Their tits touched and Americana could feel the cold metal of Paige’s nipple piercings. The heroine lifted her legs, planting her feet on the walls of the narrow stall to give Paige more access and Paige leaned in, able to push herself in either deeper. Americana was turning flush, she felt herself getting warm as Paige took her time to make every stroke count. Over Paige’s shoulder, Electra and her male fans all watched with looks of glee and amazement, and Americana could only lay back as Paige continued fucking her.

Americana stared at her autograph, etched on marker on Paige’s tanned skin and then she realized Electra’s autograph was there too, in marker just above her own. Paige looked her in the eye with a smile. “I’m going to get them both tattooed,” she said, biting her lip and smiling. She put a hand on the back of Americana’s head and buried the heroine’s face in the space between her tits all while still fucking her. Americana could feel herself getting closer to the brink, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold it back for much longer.

Page moaned as Americana began sucking on her tits and threw her head back. She then leaned in, kissing the top of the heroine’s head and Americana squealed.

“Ah...AHHH!”

Her whole body convulsed and her juices spilled out onto the floor, drenching her thighs and Paige’s and splattering on the tile. Even as they continued spilling, Paige continued fucking her with the strap-on for several more minutes before pulling out.

Americana slumped over, utterly exhausted. Her bare tits heaved and her legs twitched as she continued pumping up juices. Her hands relaxed in the handcuffs and she leaned against the wall. She then felt several pairs of hands grab her and pull her out of the stall.

They laid her on the floor of the bathroom and Electra stood on one side while all the fans stood on the other side.

“That was so much fun!” Electra said, looking down at the spent heroine. “Now, who loves you like no one else?”

“You do, Electra!” the said in unison.

“That’s right!” She smiled. “And I don’t ever want any of you to forget that! Now, you go and enjoy the buffet and have fun tonight!” She said to them.

Her fans said their goodbyes and began to leave, and Electra smiled and squatted.

Americana somewhat came back to her senses and looked at Electra, who counted a stack of cash that she had.

“You bitch…” Americana said. “You use those poor people for your fragile ego.”

“Use? No, not at all. I do love my fans and there’s no room in their lives for anyone but me. Don’t ever forget that, cow,” she said, flicking Americana in the forehead.

“You’re sick…”

“Of you and everyone who thinks they can replace me,” Electra replied. “I don’t bust my ass practicing routines, working out, flying, and starving myself just so some dumb twat can push me aside.” She ran her hand on the naked heroine’s body. “I heard about you Aphrodites. You don’t even have to try very hard to look like this, do you?”

Americana stayed silent.

“You have no fucking idea how much I just want a cheeseburger and milkshake right now, but I can’t have them because of bitches like you!”

“You’re out of your mind,” American growled.

“Maybe,” Electra said. “But I have the love of my fans,” she said, flashing her cash. “And plenty of this.” She then threw the cash at Americana. “Clean yourself up and enjoy the show tonight after you wake up.”

“What…?” Americana said. “Wait, Electra, no!” she said before the songstress put the chloroform-soaked rag over her mouth again, knocking her out. Electra stared at her for several seconds before getting up and leaving.

Americana lay there, unconscious on the bathroom floor for several silent moments. Then the door opened and Mr. Bright walked in, looking around. He stood over the heroine, shrugged his shoulders and unbuttoned and dropped his pants before kneeling down between her legs.

“Working for that uppity bitch has some perks…” he said as he pulled his cock out. “Wish it was her down here, though…” He then went in his jacket pocket and took out a piece of merch, a cardboard mask in the image of Electra’s smiling face. He put it on Americana and slid himself in.

“Take that, Kaylee!” he said as he fucked the heroine’s unconscious body. He put her legs over his shoulders, squeezed her tits, and continued pounding her pussy, grunting as he did. He looked at the mask, smiling back at him, and growled. “I was a good fucking car salesman, you twat! And I’m a good fucking manager.” He took several angry, forceful thrusts. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be singing karaoke in the same shitty bar you’d be stuck working in! There’d be no Electra Nova without me!”

Americana didn’t so much as stir, she just lay there, her body rocking with his thrusting, and Bright grunted as he pushed deep into the heroine’s pussy. He groaned, his shaft buried up to its balls as he gripped the heroine’s hips. He felt his whole body stiffen up and quickly pulled out, giving himself a few strokes before releasing his seed all over her stomach and tits. He drained his balls on her and then fell back. His dripping cock went limp as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Americana still lay there on the bathroom floor, out like a light and oblivious to what happened to her. Bright looked up, realizing he was still alone with her and when he stared at the Electra Nova mask, he got angry all over again. He crawled over to the heroine and rolled her onto her chest before he began stroking himself, trying to get himself hard again.

It took several long minutes but he got there. He then pulled Americana up to her knees, spread her ass cheeks, and slid himself in before he began fucking her in the ass. “Your ass belongs to me, Kaylee! Not the other way around!” He said angrily, his pelvis slamming into the meat of the young heroine’s ass.

V

“Ugh...why is my ass sore?” Brenda asked herself. It was hours later, and she sat in a car in a lot behind the arena. She looked at the clothes she wore, a tight t-shirt with Electra Nova’s face, and a pair of hot pink booty shorts that had the singer’s name on the ass, and she growled inwardly. She stole them from a box of merch that she found after she came to, and they were the only clothes she could find to replace her ruined costume. A planned raid of Electra’s dressing room during the concert was canceled when she saw two bored-looking security men playing cards outside of it. She was just thankful that everyone was so occupied with the concert that no one saw her take the merch. Still, she resolved the burn these clothes the minute she got home.

Brenda sighed and sank into the passenger seat of the car. “I’m starving…” she uttered before turning the radio on. Electra Nova’s “Starstruck” belted out of the speakers and she immediately switched the channel, finding the news instead.

She listened without really paying attention when she saw someone approach the car. Freya smiled and waved before opening the back door and throwing a heavy bag in the back seat. She then got in the driver’s seat and started the car.

“What a show!” Freya beamed. “I can’t thank you enough, Brenda.”

“Stop for food on the way home, and you’re paying…” Brenda said, staring out the window.

“Sure,” Freya said. “I can’t believe Electra sang for three hours. She’s such a great performer. She even played a bunch of songs from her early demos. Ugh! Show of the year!” Freya gushed. “I spent entirely too much at the merch table.”

Brenda looked in the back seat at her bag and then grabbed it. Freya pulled out onto the street to drive them home and Brenda looked through the bag, finding shirts, hoodies, the same shorts Brenda was wearing but in 3 different colors, a keychain, an autographed vinyl record, and a tour poster.

Brenda opened her door and threw the entire bag out.

“Brenda!” Freya yelled. She brought the car to a stop and looked out her mirror to see where the bag may have landed as cars honked at her.

Brenda ignored her and curled up in her seat. “I want cheeseburgers, and milkshakes. Several of each,” she told Freya while she tried to get some sleep.

The End