Maggie Brown: the Singer's Passion

"Maggie, Maggie, Maggie," the huge stadium's foot stamping cry was endless. The men came for her in her seat and whisked her to the stage. Her heart pounded in her ears so loudly she was sure it would explode. Her entire body tingled. "Maggie, Maggie, Maggie," it continued.

On the stage now only a few feet from her idol. Her head whirled. They carried her forward right into his arms. She knew she would swoon. "Maggie, Maggie, Maggie."

His face was against hers. "Oh, Maggie, I've seen your picture on my fan page. I've so wanted to meet you. She felt his erection against her. Oh, god, she thought, he wants me. He want's ME!

He turned her roughly around so she could see her adoring fans even as she heard them. "Let's let your fans see you." She felt the rough jerk as he ripped her shirt. Unseen, the buttons flew everywhere. "Let's let them see your tits." He jerked again. Her ripped blouse fell away. He pushed her bra out of the way.

Cameras exploded all around her. There were men at her feet broadcasting her lovely tits to screens around the stadium indeed, around the world. "Maggie, Maggie, Maggie," he chanted in her ears above the roar of the crowd. He was so rough! She couldn't get enough! His hands mashed her tits raising them to show them off to the crowd.

She became aware that there were other girls on the stage. They faced in different directions as their clothes were stripped from them letting the tens of thousands here in the stadium and millions around the world see how lovely their tits were.

From the audience they lined up. A bed was pushed onto the stage. The singer stood over her and sang of his heart-felt love for her. Security opened the line and the men moved forward. Roughly, just like the singer they pulled at her, stuck fingers in every hole. She was whirling in heaven. They just couldn't get enough of her.

One, two, sometimes three thrusts were all they were allowed before the line had to move on. She felt each of them, large, small, straight, crooked. Then a line of girls passed at her head. She reached up and touched as many of their sopping pussies as she could. Security kept the lines moving.

Girls juices covered her face. Cum from the men splattered from her tits to her knees. She waved her arms at her fans. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.

She didn't know when it ended. Her mom and dad stood over her as she lay on the huge bed in the huge stadium. "They really love you, honey," her mother said. "We're so proud of you." Her mother's smile had taken complete control of her face. She had stripped naked to be just like her daughter. "Momma, Momma, Momma," Maggie echoed the crowd for her mother.

Finally, her father could not hold back. Pulling his own clothes off he knelt before his cum splattered daughter and roughly thrust his throbbing cock inside her. "Oh, daddy, daddy," that feels so good," she responded with every thrust.

Her father pulled out splattering his cum over the girl. It oozed over the girl's body.

Then finally the Singer appeared from the haze. He stood over her while several of the other girls roughly jerked his cock until his cum splattered from her face to her pussy. Then, in the only quiet she would remember, he lay atop her thrusting again inside her.

For days it went on. The crowds, her fans shouted Maggie, Maggie, Maggie at the start of every concert. Half a dozen other girls were brought from the audience to the stage to accommodate all the fans who wanted to have their juices anointing her or at least someone near her. Though their names were never revealed, their naked, cum splattered bodies became as famous as Maggie's.

Abis looked up from his computer. "It works," he said. "The algorithm places the name and photo in context with other things which the reader or viewer holds dear. Do that enough times and Maggie Brown is a celebrity. I didn't mean to get her covered in cum," he said as he shrugged his shoulders, "but shit happens."

"Wanna try it on some other people?"

"Not really. We do it too much and someone's gonna want to take a closer look." He leaned back in his chair. "I'll bet that Maggie Brown's got one sore puss."

Maggie Brown, the Influencer, the Singer's Passion slowly drifted back to her roots even as she tried to maintain her now former glory.

A number of people tried to sue her for diseases they had contracted, but her lawyers made the obvious point that she had little or nothing to do with their selection of sex partners.

The Singer maintained a relationship of sorts sending her occasional tickets. Though he never took her onto the stage again, he invited her to wait in his dressing room. Those dressing rooms that were small, he simply used her standing against a wall. She didn't seem to mind, but she always insisted on him using a condom.

The various social media she became associated with provided her a good income as an Influencer, though not the millions she thought she was worth.

"Yeah," Abis breathed in deep contemplation. "I'll bet that Maggie Brown's got one sore pussy.