Marie Osmond Tribute

TRIBUTE

Marie sank into the big car’s back seat and heard the driver close the door behind her. Her ears rang as they adjusted to the limousine’s fat silence. Only moments before, music and applause pummeled through her every muscle and pore. Even the quiet hum of the engine could not disturb the reigning stillness of the car’s plush, padded interior.

The theatre was only blocks away from her hotel suite, so she fought the urge to relax, preferring to unwind without restraint in the privacy of those rooms. San Francisco’s seedy Tenderloin district floated slowly by the tinted windows. In eight blocks,
the rolling noise deprivation chamber would have her safely at the top of Nob Hill and deposited at the stately Fairmont. She signed and surrendered to her exhaustion, letting her head accept the cushioned solace of the leather seat.

The King and I had not done as well in San Francisco as it had in New York, yet sales still met projections. As lovely as San Francisco was, she was anxious to move on in two weeks to Los Angeles where she still had many friends.

She knew no one here, other than the rest of the cast, none of whom she particularly liked. And now, she realized, opening her eyes in delayed recognition, tonight even her driver was unfamiliar. She was too sleepy to discern the features of this new man but knew he was not the same person who’d driven her since her arrival two weeks ago.

“Where’s Pete tonight?” She asked the stranger, hoping she sounded happily Osmond enough to disguise any disappointment.

“He’s sick, ma’am. I’m Brian.”

Still she couldn’t get a glimpse of his face in the rectangular mirror near his head.

She smiled faintly with her head still against the seat. “Oh. That’s my husband’s name. Brian.” Her voice trailed.

“Yes, I know.”

Despite the public availability of such information, fans armed with it discomfited her. She decided to offer no further comment to this man. She’d not be likely to see him after tonight anyway.

She was not too sleepy to notice they were heading west rather than north. Instead of climbing the imposing hill to safety, they crossed through more blight. Marie’s head bolted upright.

“Brian, where are we going?”

“Just a quick errand, ma’am. I’ll drive you to your hotel right afterwards.”

“What errand? On whose instruction?” She heard her heart beat in her ears. The welcoming mattress in her hotel room was no longer her primary concern. She looked about wildly, as if clues to this turn of events could be observed in her surroundings.

Brian did not respond. He navigated the luxury vehicle into the garage of what seemed to be a medium-sized apartment building. Four motorcycles sat in the dimly lit garage. Although several parking spaces were available, Brian positioned the limo in the center of the garage and cut the engine.

Before Brian exited the car, the door to Marie’s left swung open. A large Black man scooped her up in hands the size of dinner plates and extracted her from the backseat. It happened so quickly, she didn’t have the presence of mind to scream until the man held her like a bride in the middle of the dingy cement dungeon. Almost instantly, a feminine hand with exceptionally long nails clamped itself over her mouth.

“Quiet, bitch! If you make noise, somebody’s got to hurt you,” said the tall, thin, raven-haired woman. Marie trembled under the threatening woman’s palm but her screams poured out unchecked nevertheless.

The woman then replaced her hand with her wide, red-stained mouth. Shocked into silence, Marie ceased her struggle. The gargantuan black man stood holding Marie’s body draped over his arms now like so many yards of fabric. The lanky dark-haired woman forced her tongue into Marie’s mouth, desperately darting it about as if she sought something in particular.

Marie froze, unable to think or breathe. The woman french-kissed her while she lay in the arms of a strange man. She had no idea where Brian was. She allowed herself to feel the woman’s snake-like tongue work its way around her mouth.

The woman abruptly pulled away from Marie but placed a hand on her head in a disconcertingly maternal fashion.

“Are you going to shut up now?”

Marie nodded, mute with fear.

“Take her in, David. I’ve got it covered,” she heard Brian say to the man who held her. David carried her to an iron exit door with a push bar, pressing on it with his elbow to open it. Marie was then surrounded by darkness, yet David moved assuredly as he transported her to whatever mysterious destination lay ahead. Her cellular phone was in the car, she remembered, eyes filling with tears. She made a mental note to fire her bodyguards if she made it out of this alive.

Another heavy metal door was opened in a similar manner. Strains of her own voice singing “Paper Roses” greeted her through small stereo speakers. Candles blazed, illuminating what could best be described as an abandoned recreation room assembled by people of limited means. A tiny bar with two stools sat in one corner. A wobbly card table graced the opposite corner; most of the candles were concentrated on its surface. Next to the table, lurked a sooty fireplace with an overbuilt fire. Twenty or so of Marie’s signature porcelain dolls lined the fireplace mantle. In such close proximity to the inferno below, they looked like eerie miniature virgin sacrifices. A life-size portrait of her graced the otherwise bare walls. Marie felt her stomach clench sporadically as bile rose in her throat. Her head throbbed. Vaguely aware of her cold sweat, she didn’t flinch when someone removed her black trenchcoat.

David placed Marie on the large billiard table in the middle of the room. As she sat there, listening to her own voice, looking at her dolls, she noticed a man just a few feet away, settled rather imperially in a large naugahide recliner. His eyes, though penetrating, met hers with an unexpected gentleness. He sat with one ankle resting on the other knee, fingers linked across his stomach.

“Marie Osmond,” he said fondly, a grin fighting placement on his kind face. Marie struggled to discern if he was fan or fiend.

She felt foolish on the pool table. If she tried to get down, she’d surely provoke her abductors. A few minutes ago, she would’ve been happy to lay down on it and sleep but her adrenaline level was much too high now. Instinctively, she sat upright, knees bent and encircled in her arms. She watched the man in the chair but was aware of several other people near the bar.

“You don’t look comfortable, my dear. Come stand before me.”

When she stood only a few arms’ lengths from him, she was keenly aware of the chill in the room. She wore only a violet silk warm-up suit, her usual attire for the ride home. The silk felt cold against her skin and as her nipples mindlessly reacted to the temperature, she was mortified to recall that she wore no underwear.

The man in the chair appraised her with unmasked delight. His eyes hovered at her breasts for a time then focused reluctantly on her face.

“I’m Ross, Marie. I’ve been a fan for years, but I must admit that what I’ve wanted most is to see you get fucked. I want to see that angelic face twisted in ecstasy. I want to see your lovely tits being sucked. And what I’d most enjoy is watching you entertain some nice big cocks.”

Marie’s fear overtook her vocabulary. Nausea had passed, leaving only numbness.

“My friends are willing to help me realize this dream. Much to my surprise, their girlfriends want to play with you, too. In fact, I think you’ve already met Joanna.” He turned to the group and Marie followed his gaze.

Joanna was a female dedicated to length. At nearly 185 centimeters, she wore thigh high boots with substantial heels that made her seem even taller. Her legs were long but her sleek torso did not suffer for it. Her black hair (a little damaged, Marie thought) ended just past her waist. And, of course, there were those formidable fingernails.

With long, loping strides, Joanna approached Marie, who stayed rooted to her spot before Ross. Joanna stood behind Marie, pressing her pelvis into Marie’s ass. She reached around Marie and placed open palms over Marie’s silk-covered breasts. Only the slimmest ribbon of air separated her hands from Marie’s hard nipples. But her palms made contact with the silk and her hands grabbed Marie’s tits and squeezed.

Marie looked to Ross, as if he’d intervene. Instead, he sat back with an indulgent smile and a huge bulge at his crotch.

Joanna took Marie’s nipples, hard and prominent now, between her fingers, rolling them under the silk and her elaborate fingernails. Marie gasped involuntarily.

“Oh, Marie, if you’d enjoy this, you’d make me a very happy man.” He rubbed suggestively at his clothed erection.

Marie wondered how she could possibly enjoy this humiliation, this degradation. And yet, standing there like a servant before royalty, with Joanna squeezing handfuls of her breasts and Ross avidly watching, she could feel the cream developing between her legs.

Marie heard another set of heels approach and turned to observe the wearer. A stunning Black woman in a red leather mini-skirt stood before her, but to the side to afford Ross with optimal viewing. Her monstrous tits, buoyed up in a red lace bustier, heaved and quivered only inches from Joanna’s busy hands. Marie had never been so close to such luscious mammaries. Despite the woman’s facial beauty, Marie couldn’t take her eyes from those big, chocolately tits.

“You like Shelly’s big tits, don’t you, Marie?” She said, grabbing them for emphasis. Their girth exceeded the reach of Shelly’s extended hands. Shelly bounced the overflowing bustier cups in her hands and wagged her tongue at Marie, who felt her pussy twitch in response.

Shelly let go of her mighty mounds, gently removed Joanna’s massaging hands and deftly unzipped Marie’s warm-up suit. Joanna slipped it over Marie’s shoulders, down her arms and finally off her body completely. Marie stood topless and trembling with what had now, in spite of herself, become desire.

Her strict Mormon upbringing had precluded anyone from seeing her naked (except her husband), so having three sets of eyes focused on her modest breasts embarrassed her beyond description. She averted her eyes downward, feeling lost and confused, desperately hoping she was dreaming. She felt their stares and was suddenly mortified by the subtle trickle of juice she felt escaping from her slit.

“Marie, my beauty. You look just like one of your porcelain dolls. Pure and fragile, begging to be fucked,” Ross said in a husky voice. Tentatively, Marie looked at him as he rubbed his crotch eagerly.

In his other hand, he held a naked porcelain doll with black hair. When he was sure Marie was watching, he licked the hard, molded tits of the doll. Paper Roses played continuously like some macabre soundtrack.

The girls immediately began to lick Marie’s pert nipples. They held and squeezed them while their pretty tongues rapidly flicked away. Marie instinctively placed a hand on each of their heads and gasped with pleasure. Shelly began to suck Marie’s tit before Joanna but soon Joanna was working her own suction, leaving Marie’s knees weak.

“Put Marie on the pool table,” Ross commanded, licking the doll titties in unison with the women’s oral fun.

Shelly and Joanna nudged Marie toward the table, never lifting their heads from her happy tits. Marie backed toward the table obediently but then felt a big pair of male hands around her waist from behind her.

“David’s going to help you up, my dear,” Ross explained.

The women stepped away and David lifted and placed her ass on the fuzzy green expanse of felt. She sat there, topless, legs dangling.

Then David grasped her under her arms to lift her slightly and the women quickly slid her pants off. Her espadrilles dropped to the floor. All she wore now was the silver pendant from her husband.

She was suddenly fearful of staining the verdant felt with her wet pussy. But before she could think about it, Shelly, David and Joanna positioned her so that she lay diagonally across the pool table. For reasons unknown even to Marie, she glanced at Ross. Was she looking for support? Direction? Protection?

Suddenly, Shelly’s huge tit loomed in front of her face as Shelly directed the big nipple into Marie’s mouth. Marie accepted it readily and surprised herself as she sucked at its delicious fullness. Shelly’s fleshy roundness pushed into Marie’s face and Marie grabbed at it with both hands, strangely hungry for as much tit as she could stuff into her mouth. As she sucked, she unconsciously spread her legs wide, displaying her glistening pink succulence for Ross.

“Mmmm, that’s what I call A Little Bit Cunt-ry, baby,” she heard Ross say.

“Take that big fuckin’ tit out of her mouth for a minute, Shelly. Marie needs to meet a new friend, now.”

Shelly looked hurt and reluctantly removed her fat nipple from Marie’s mouth.

“Shelly’s not happy unless somebody’s playing with her tits,” Ross explained to Marie, as if insight into Shelly’s behavior was necessary. “Shelly, why don’t you suck your own tits for a little while?” Instantly, Shelly brought a heavy jug up to her mouth with both hands and enthusiastically suckled herself, never taking her eyes from Marie, who watched with lusty fascination.

More heels clicked along the cement floor, drawing Marie’s attention. A lovely young blond woman wearing a black trenchcoat much like Marie’s approached, grinning mischievously. She looked like a typical co-ed from Brigham Young University; clean, sweet, fresh-scrubbed.

“Hello, Marie. I’m Kelly. I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

Marie mumbled a greeting, uneasy about the incongruence of this girl’s appearance to her surroundings.

“I’ve wanted to meet you so that I could express my adoration,” she said, unwrapping the belted knot at her waist. Removing the coat, she revealed a perfectly proportioned body adorned with a garment of several straps that criss-crossed her body, most of which were connected by D rings. The outfit suggested playful bondage.

At her hips, a huge black dildo hung from a harness. She took it in her hand and wagged it at Marie.

“I wanted to express my adoration by fucking your sweet, wholesome cunt, Marie. I want to pump you with thanks.” She smiled with a steely coolness.

Ross took his cock out of his pants and wagged it like Kelly wagged hers. Kelly climbed up onto the table and stood over Marie for a moment, appraising Marie’s supine body. Then she knelt between Marie’s legs.

From nowhere, a redheaded freckled face young man stood by the side of the table. He, too, smiled as if he had special plans.

“I’m Kevin, Marie. Do you mind if I grab a handful of your pussy before Kelly stuffs you with that dildo?” He didn’t wait for an answer. His fingers began playing with her slippery folds, spreading her juice around her sex and covering his fingers. Marie could not recall ever being so wet.

“Actually, I’m just trying to make sure you’re ready to get fucked. We want your pussy good and wet before Kelly reams you with that scary cock of hers.”

His fingers frigged her clit with perfect precision and her slit gushed with hot juice. Kelly positioned herself and slipped the dong into Marie’s hole. The tip of the cock seemed to climb up along Marie’s vertebrae as Kelly banged it into her.

Kevin continued to play with her slippery, engorged clit while Kelly pounded the big dildo into Marie’s hungry pussy.

David turned Marie’s head toward him and his own huge Black dick slapped her firmly on the cheek.

“Eat my cock, Marie,” he commanded, jamming it into her waiting mouth. Even before he started fucking her mouth, she pumped his thick rod like the wanton slut she’d always wanted to be.

Joanna’s mouth locked onto Marie’s nipple again. Shelly stopped sucking her own tit. Now, she rubbed nipples with Marie’s unattended tit.

Marie’s body writhed and burned with a passion that seared through her like a forest fire. The dildo slammed into her dripping snatch and she thought her clit would explode from Kevin’s clever fingering.

She’d never sucked Black dick before but now couldn’t get enough. She wanted that log all the way down her throat. Her tits transmitted the pleasure of the women’s attention straight to her pussy. She moaned, which vibrated David’s cock in her mouth.

She saw Ross now, standing at the table, beating his massive meat with utter abandon.

“I’m saving my cum for you, Marie. When you come, I’m going to explode this missile all over your beautiful body!”

The sight of Ross’s huge cock fucking his hand put her over the edge. She bucked, yelled, twisted, and nobody stopped fucking her. Her pleasure ripped through her until she could not focus. Every wave of orgasm shook her more violently. The physical sensations were intense on their own, but watching all these hands, mouths, and cocks on her sent her into a reckless oblivion.

As promised, Ross shot his impressive load all over her torso and her face. She was covered in his hot juice and purred as he rubbed it into her. He wiped some from her face and made her lick it off his fingers. She liked it.

David had pulled out of her mouth. Shelly had separated from Marie’s tit and knelt by the side of the pool table. David fucked her gargantuan tits, the head of his cock poking out between them every so often. He came in large spurts on Shelly’s face and neck but mostly over her huge expanse of tit flesh.

Each of Marie’s lovers kissed her goodbye and slipped out of the room. Ross remained to help her compose herself. With the care of a kindly country doctor, he helped her dress. Despite all his kind gestures, she felt weak and unstable with excess satisfaction.

“Thank you for making our dreams come true, Marie. Brian has been guarding the door and is waiting to take you to your hotel. Goodbye.”

He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and escorted her to the garage. The ride home was a blur of passing lights and a pussy that wouldn’t stop dripping.

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