Continuing the series about what might happen if a
celebrity found this site (assuming it hasn’t already
happened). Unlike the other times I’ve written about
Mariah Carey (one of my personal favourites), this
DOES take place in a world where she made “Glitter,”
but while we all regret it happened (it only played in
one or two London cinemas for a week – I was on
holiday that week or I’d never have seen it on the big
screen, like most people), it’s necessary for this
Between my writing this story and my resubmitting it
[with a few grammatical errors tidied up] after the
Big Crash, Mariah Carey really did appear on “So
Graham Norton,” but not as shown here (obviously).
Apart from that it’s completely fictional – the show
doesn’t go out live, for a start – not intended for
under-18s, any comments can go either on the message
boards or directly to me at email@example.com
– end of preliminaries…
* * * * * * * * * *
Mariah Carey was not alone when she found out about
the Celeb Sex Stories Archive. In fact, she had an
entire studio audience for company. Plus crew. And an
Irish TV presenter.
“You know,” Graham Norton told Mariah chirpily as he
turned to the computer next to him, “a lot of men
regard you as their muse… I’ll just tap the address
in here… have you ever heard of a site called CSSA?”
“Well, no,” the sexy singer admitted. “Is it some kind
of weird fetish thing?”
“Yes and no…” Graham continued as the Celeb Sex
Stories Archive site made its British TV debut. “It’s
all about fantasies about celebrities… I keep going
there to see if anyone’s sent it one about Miles
Mariah had boned up on Graham beforehand and was
tactful enough to not point out that it was for
“Well, let’s see what we have here…” he added as
Mariah brought herself closer to the monitor. “Oh
look, here we go… too bad there aren’t any
Graham and Mariah scanned the listing eagerly and
curiously (respectively). “My, you DO have your fans,
don’t you Mariah? ‘Sweet Sweet Fantasy Baby,’ ‘Hotel
Mariah,’ ‘I Masturbated With Mariah Carey,’ ‘All That
“‘Mariah Carey’s Cuntsucker’?” Mariah said, forgetting
for a moment she was on live TV. The audience
applauded the hearing of the C-word from a celeb’s
lips, even though this WAS Channel 4 late at night.
“How about reading an excerpt from one of them?”
Graham suggested, to the delight of the audience.
“Well… I don’t know,” Mariah replied. “I hear some
of these fans can get real freaky…”
“Oh, go on… if it works we might make it a regular
feature on the show…”
Mariah, throwing caution to the winds, faced the
audience. “What do you think, guys – should I do it?”
“YEAH!!!!!” exulted the audience.
“The people have spoken,” Graham laughed. “You can
choose which one you want to do, since you’re the
Mariah scanned the selections, stopping on “Dream
Weaver,” and printing it off, wondering what she had
let herself in for.
* * * * * * * * * *
Some hours later in her suite, Mariah rewound the tape
(she kept video recordings of all her TV appearances)
and watched herself in action again. No one would ever
accuse her of being a bad sport, true, but she was
beginning to regret it now. And what the gossip rags
would make of Mariah Carey reading stories about her
being shagged by fans on national television she could
On the other hand, she had had far worse stuff written
about her – folks still thought she had really said
that famine thing, the stench from “Glitter” was still
lingering, and the wreckage from her recent personal
problems wasn’t quite gone yet. Compared to all that,
a little porno reading was nothing. And what the hell,
at least it came from guys who liked her. She may have
been getting her career back on track, but she still
needed all the support she could get; you had to take
it where you could.
A small smile played around Mariah’s face. At least
she had gone further than some other singers – you
wouldn’t catch Madonna doing that on TV, no matter how
daring she thought she was. She pressed “play” again
and turned the sound up, making a note to visit CSSA
when she was back home (no Internet access from her
“‘…She climbed onto the bed again, positioned
herself over Jon’s tower and, spreading her cheeks,
slowly began to lower herself onto the cockhead. Her
aim was true; the puckery hole started to take in the
penis…'” It wouldn’t make “A Book At Bedtime” any
time soon, but Mariah had really thrown herself into
the live reading. It was true that she had had some
sex whenever she was down in Barbados, but not with a
guy in a wheelchair or anything. Mind you, she did
think the movie the author had postulated sounded a
hell of a lot better than the one she had made (and it
had even gotten released in America, unlike “Wise
Mariah tensed herself for the press about this. And
also wondered what the other stories were like.
* * * * * * * * * *
Safely back on American soil, Mariah finished the
first fan letters she had written in a very long time.
They weren’t to any rappers or singers, however; they
were to the authors of some of the stories. She’d
finally finished reading each one (except the
bestiality one and “The Rape of Mariah Carey,” for
obvious reasons), and had regretted that there weren’t
contact addresses for all of them; some of them were
quite good, and she had gotten a definite tingle from
her erotic exploits. Under the pseudonym she often
adopted when going online, she had asked the authors
to do another story about Mariah.
“Me and Jewel,” she laughed to herself as she sent the
e-mails out from her special Hotmail address. “Better
her than Celine Dion, anyway. At least Jewel’s got a
nice body… what am I saying? At least Jewel’s got a
Mariah checked her watch as the door buzzed. Yep, it
was about time for her appointment.
* * * * * * * * * *
“And will the ladies be having anything else?”
Mariah studied the menu, and shook her head. “No, I
think that’ll do for me. Are you having anything else,
Jackie, her companion for the evening, nodded. “Some
more steak for me, please. Same as before – double
“Indeed, ma’am,” said the waiter and left.
“Double portions?” Mariah laughed, as under the table
Jackie slowly removed her shoes. “Don’t you get
worried about your weight?”
“I work out a lot in my job,” the 40-something woman
assured the singer, wriggling her toes. Aaaahh, that
felt good. “Not as much as you do, I bet.”
Jackie’s foot found Mariah’s legs opposite. No
tights… that felt even better. Sheer nylon was all
very well, but nothing beat the feel of flesh. Jackie
began to move her foot up Mariah’s limbs, slowly
travelling upwards as the women continued to talk.
Mariah found it harder to concentrate, especially when
she looked at her companion. She wished she could see
under the table, see her companion’s foor stroking her
tender thighs as well as feeling it.
Jackie was chatting animatedly, beaming and
gesticulating as she gassed about her life to her
famous friend. Caual observers would never have
guessed that said famous friend was being foot-fucked
at the time; Jackie’s right leg was now extended, the
foot slowly playing with Mariah’s cunt. The singer let
her breath out in short, quick pants as Jackie clasped
her button between two toes and twirled it… Mariah
quickly gulped her drink before she could yell her
delight. But Jackie’s manipulation was not yet done.
She inserted her first two toes inside Mariah’s pussy
and spread them, and started to wiggle them inside.
Mariah slowly moved them back and forth as Jackie’s
other toes played with her bushy pussy hairs. All over
her snatch, Mariah felt herself getting warmer and
damper. This was the best wank she had ever had; she
wanted Jackie to fuck her all the way inside with her
foot. As if her mind was being read, Jackie brought
the toes together and started to work the foot into La
“Aaaa…aaaaaAHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Mariah couldn’t hold it
back any longer, and found herself treating the
restaurant to an impromptu concert as Jackie sliced
her foot in and out of her companion’s cunt,
swivelling it back and forth as she fucked her.
Mariah’s notes distracted most of the diners, but they
also successfully disguised her orgasm…
* * * * * * * * * *
In the car park, Josephine “Jackie” Callas studied the
cheque Mariah had made out. “Is this for real?” she
“Like I told you the past four times, yes it is,”
Mariah assured her. “I did some research and all my
contacts told me you were the best. And I always pay
top rates for the best.”
Josephine nodded, and folded away the generous payment
inside her dress. “Nice doing business with you. Same
time next week?”
“Same time,” Mariah agreed, shaking hands with the
wealthy escort agency owner. It was a tough call as to
who was more disoriented – Mariah for actually having
gone through with it, or Jacqueline for agreeing to
handle the request of her biggest client. The day
Mariah Carey had summoned her, presented her with a
folder containing most of the stories about her on
CSSA and requested her help in acting them out one by
one, Mrs. Callas (you heard me – she was a married
woman) had gone through a variety of emotions; she was
on the verge of telling the crackpot to take her sick
fantasies elsewhere, until Mariah mentioned a figure
containing just the right number of zeroes.
For Mariah, of course, there was another reason – she
needed something to take her mind off how shitty her
personal life was. Work was all very well, but she
hadn’t got a man in her life now that Luis was gone.
This little game of hers was a way out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Scott Murphy stepped into the lift and pressed the
button for the floor that his client was on. She was a
picky one, but his boss had assured her that she would
make it worth their while… “No complaints yet, and
I’d really like you not to be the first.”
Scott was a good boy who did what he was told, but he
did feel kind of silly hefting this medallion. Still,
the customer was always right…
“Friday Night Is Music Night” on Radio 2 in the UK.
For Mariah Carey, Friday Night was CSSA Night. Tonight
she’d be doing the Hypno Celeb one; Mariah had happy
memories of how the previous week’s one had gone –
doing men in uniform had done her a world of good.
Memories of erect penises danced in her head as she
answered the door. Before she could say anything
“Rick,” the man at the bell, instantly dangled an
amulet in front of her face…
“So,” he said to her as they snuggled together
afterwards, “perhaps you could see about including me
“Well, I could use an assistant,” she told him, her
mind still on how his tool had filled her up. Man, he
could come… how long would he have to rest before he
could perform again? “If you call my people in the
morning, we’ll get the ball rolling. Looking forward
to seeing you again, ‘Rick.'”
“Same here,” he replied, as they settled back. The
deal was that he would spend the night and leave in
the morning several hundred dollars richer, before
they went on to the next fantasy. Mariah had enjoyed
this one a lot; the showering, the fucking, the works.
She had even liked the guy as well; the other people
she’d played with so far were performance artists.
Good ones, but performance artists nonetheless. But
In each performance they had used the names of their
counterparts in the stories, and Mariah had had no
trouble in referring to them as such. The thing was,
when “Rick” had been soaping her ass in the shower and
drilling her on the bed he felt so good, and she felt
so happy, she had nearly called him Scott.
“Scott?” she asked the male prostitute, moving in
Dammit. He was asleep already. Just like a man; even
when you paid them for it – go figure. Mariah shook
her head, and rested her head against the lad. He
certainly had the body for it – plus he was tanned and
with great black hair and eyes, and topped it all off
with… the singer’s eyes drifted down to Scott’s
cock. Unlike most of the men she had been with, he was
pretty well hung; not quite the size of Norman
Mailer’s ego, but still a big one.
Mariah checked to see that Scott was sleeping, then
clasped the penis in her hands. “A little bonus for
you, kid,” she whispered, and licked the peeping pink
cockhead. She was pleased that he wasn’t cut; there
was something about playing with the foreskin that she
liked. Peeling back as much of it as she could, she
delicately blew on it, and ran her tongue on the tiny
hole at the tip before slowly starting to swallow. She
lowered her lovely head onto the shaft, trying to get
as much of the prick inside the mouth as she could.
The experienced singer sucked on Scott’s cock with
greater speed and energy, working him with her fingers
as she did her best to turn him on. Whatever it was he
was dreaming about, it couldn’t be as good as this.
She stroked him as her tongue and lips moved back and
forth along his rod. Oh God, his body was beautiful…
Scott started to move around in his sleep, disturbed
less by what was happening in his head than what was
happening out of it, as Mariah waited for him to come
down her throat. She gulped and grunted as she felt
Scott’s cock start to jerk, and she received a thick,
creamy bonus in her mouth…
* * * * * * * * * *
Scott rechecked his account. There was no denying it;
he had received double what his fee usually was. He
had received tips for sure before, but never 100%. He
knew he was good, but he didn’t think he’d been that
He almost wanted to see her again; he had remembered
how happy she had looked to be with him, as if she was
truly pleased to be with someone for a change. He had
thought she’d be used to picking up guys on a whim.
Maybe she wasn’t just playing a game after all, the
way Miss Callas had said she was.
* * * * * * * * * *
Mariah emerged from the studio with smiles and
high-fives all round. The session had gone great, and
now she and some of her colleagues were off to get a
well-deserved drink, and talk about what they would be
up to that night.
“Well,” Mariah said, leading off the chat over their
drinks, “I was thinking that you guys could come over
to my place after the game. Sort of let off steam when
your team loses.”
“Yeah, that’ll happen!” one of her buddies cackled.
“We haven’t lost a match yet, and there’s no way the
Loserville Losers are going to end our streak…”
“Wanna bet on that?” asked a “Losers” supporter, as
Mariah’s mobile went off.
“Hang on, let me get this… hello?” She listened, and
nodded. “I’ve got to go and meet someone… important
appointment. Can’t wait. Be back in a few minutes –
but see you at my place after the game!”
“I’ll bring the beers for him to cry into,” the first
speaker laughed as Mariah took her leave, excited at
what this week’s rendezvous held. She hoped it would
be Scott again – he was all booked up, but after she
had given him his extra the lad might be willing to
make an exception…
As the singer stepped into the lift of her apartment
building, she couldn’t help noticing there was only
one other person in there – a woman in her mid-20s.
Blonde, well-built, thick glasses, who nodded at
Mariah as she stepped in and pressed the button for
“Nice to see you got my message,” the blonde told
“You’re the one?” Mariah asked in surprise, her mind
racing through the CSSA stories to see which ones had
her with a woman. There was one with Madonna, but…
and why hadn’t she waited until Mariah was at home?
The lift shuddered to a halt. The woman had thumped
the “STOP” button, and then she whirled around and
pinned a suddenly frightened Mariah to the wall of the
“Remember Part 2?”
“Of what?” Mariah asked in fear.
“Of ‘The Rape Of Mariah Carey,'” the blonde told her,
and reached for Mariah’s dress…
* * * * * * * * * *
“Send her right in,” Josephine said, wondering what
Mariah wanted to talk to her about but always willing
to make time for her biggest client.
The Mariah that entered her office in a rage was a far
cry from the usually cheerful woman; her hair was in
disarray, her clothes torn, and her eyes were crimson
as if she had been weeping. They were also furious.
Josephine knew in a second what had happened.
“I thought we had a deal, Callas!” Mariah yelled loud
enough for everyone in the office to hear. “We agreed
we would NOT do the rape stories! Do you know how
close that bitch came to – ”
“Um… actually, we never had any such agreement,”
“What in the name of God are you talking about?”
Mariah argued, pushing herself practically into
Josephine’s face. “I showed you the ones I wanted you
to do – I’m surprised you didn’t have one of your guys
come up to me on the beach and buttfuck me!”
Josephine opened up her desk drawer, took out the
folder with the stories Mariah had printed off, and
opened it. Inside, along with the stories, was the
contract the two women had signed. “Re-read it,
dearie,” she suggested, handing the paper to Mariah.
The singer scanned the contract. “…do hereby agree
to enact all the stories about Mariah Carey featured
on Celebrity Sex Stories Archive, until such time as
the stories as indicated have been completed…” She
could have killed herself on the spot. Why hadn’t she
read the thing more closely? Stunned and soiled, she
handed the contract back to Madame Callas in silence.
“Can’t wait to do the one with that creature,”
Josephine chuckled. “I’d love to see you get out of
it; you’ve had a lot of bad press recently. Of course,
you could go to the police and press charges, but you
can’t do that without this whole business coming out.”
Mariah seethed, but she knew Josephine was right.
“There is something else I can do,” she said coldly.
“Let me see that again…”
Josephine handed her the contract again, and watched
impassively as Mariah began to tear it up. “We’re
“You don’t really think I don’t have copies, do you?”
Josephine asked. “I can sue you for backing out, and
you’ll be screwed anyway. Of course, there IS a way
“Someone’s doing a series of stories about a brothel
staffed by celebrities. Including you. You work for me
for one night, privately, and we’ll forget the whole
thing. Anything I tell you to do, you do. If I want
you to spread those fine legs, you spread them. If I
want you to open up that big juicy ass, you open it.
You be my slave, and you’re free.”
“And if I don’t?”
Josephine laughed. “Oh come on, Mariah… you know
* * * * * * * * * *
When she checked the emails for firstname.lastname@example.org
a week later, there was a hefty one waiting from
B-Boy. Subject: Meeting Mariah.
In the story that made up the message, B-Boy
fantasised about being in a lift with Mariah, only
this time there were other people. Men and women, and
it was a slow journey. The following is a brief precis
of the full message:
“I’m standing behind Mariah. She’s wearing a dress cut
off just above her knees, and a lovely white top. Her
proud behind is jutting out just above my groin. ‘Do
you like the view?’ she whispers to me; she knows I’m
checking her out. And she likes it!
“I saw her come into the lift and there was just
enough breastage on view to get me excited; not enough
to be slutty, but enough. I start to play with her
hair, as the other passengers in the lift pretend not
to notice. Mariah slowly lifts up the back of her
dress, and gives me and anyone else lucky enough to be
in the line of vision a peek. She’s not wearing
anything underneath – I stare at her perfectly shaped
cheeks. She lets the dress drop, but not before my
fingers have rested on the rump. I start to caress her
ass, and I can hear Mariah murmur in satisfaction.
‘Mmmm, yes, that’s nice…’ as the other passengers
continue to try and ignore what’s going on.
“Mariah moves backwards, pressing her hot ass into my
crotch. My dick is so hard I’m resisting the urge to
yell, and it’s getting harder and harder – both the
cock and my resistance. She starts to grind her
asscheeks around my crotch. ‘Why is this thing so
slow?’ one passenger, sneaking peeks at what we’re
“She takes a free hand, and works it into her soaking
cunt. She’s warm and damp there; I’m about to play
around there when she turns to look at me for the
first time and shakes her head. ‘Use it back there,’
she tells me, and winks. My eyes and mouth widen at
what she means. Quickly I take my damp fingers and rub
them into Mariah’s anus, widening and oiling it up;
and we move to the farthest corner of the lift. Mariah
again lifts up her dress as I let my erection out of
the prison of its trousers, and slowly slip it inside
her waiting ring. I watch as her gaping asshole
gradually accommodates my cock, and listen as Mariah
urges me on…
“By now the others in the lift have abandoned any
pretence, and they’re watching the two of us in
action. The lift doors open, and soon we have more of
an audience. But I don’t care. All I care about is
sexy, horny Mariah Carey and her sweet, sweet ass
making me come…”
Subject: Thanks a lot!
Mariah Carey is sexy and horny all right… and I
can’t argue about the “sweet, sweet ass” either. I’ve
studied it many a night myself.
We’ve been talking about her online enough… how
about we arrange a little meeting in the real world
and discuss her further?
You can pick the time and place; I’m easy.
* * * * * * * * * *
While B-Boy was reading the message above, Mariah was
on the way to her assignation of the evening. She
would be meeting her man at his house; she was
surprised to find he was living in a suburban street.
Just a regular house; considering the prices Callas
charged, she would have thought she’d had had to go to
the most expensive part of town. But then again it was
amazing the lengths people would go for something they
Mariah buzzed twice in succession at the door of No.
34, as she’d been instructed, and crossed her fingers.
She was greeted by a short man in his mid-40s, a
little thin on the top, but at least he wasn’t a
fatgut or a slob. And he looked very happy to see her.
“Right on time! Come in, come in…”
Ben surveyed the tall singer as she entered.
“Amazing… just as advertised.”
“Oh yes, didn’t she tell you? I asked if they could
supply someone like Mariah Carey, but I didn’t think
she could come up with someone like… you.” He shook
his head, impressed. Uncanny.
Mariah nodded her thanks. “So…do you want to – ”
She got no further; Ben leaped onto her and started to
grab and kiss her as if he hadn’t had a woman in
years. (And he hadn’t.) Mariah was flustered for a
second, and then gently pushed him away. “Wait a
“I don’t want to wait!” Ben panted. “I’m paying for
this, and what I say goes…”
“Come on, you want someone like Mariah Carey right?
Well, you know how you’re always hearing how Mariah’s
this bitchy half-mad diva, right? The real Mariah
would want you to hang around and wait until she’s
good and ready,” she suggested.
“That’s not the real Mariah. I know the real Mariah –
always hot for it, willing to do ANYTHING to please
her man,” Ben retorted. “Loving to fuck, showing off
the goods all day and all night… and like I told
you, it’s my money.” He paused for a bit, as he saw
the expression in her eyes.
“Look, it’s been a long time since I’ve been with
someone… I just want one night with a woman. Can you
blame me if I want it to go the way I want for once?”
Mariah studied Ben for a moment, and shook her head.
“No, I guess not…” She took her head in his hands,
bent forward and kissed him. “Do you want to do it
here or in your bed?”
“Let ’em peek,” Ben told her, and started to undress
as Mariah stood and stepped back. “I’ve got all of
your – I mean, her records. Do you think I could play
one while you…”
Mariah soon heard the strains of “Fantasy” filling
Ben’s living room as she stood on his table,
lipsyncing to the song while she kept her eyes on him;
she slowly started to unbutton her shirt, moving in
perfect time to the music. Ben’s eyes were travelling
up and down as she danced, moving her hips in
surprising precision to “Sweet sweet fantasy baby” and
flinging the shirt away, gradually discarding her bra,
and turning to spend the second verse gyrating in
front of him, bending and straightening her legs,
lowering her crotch tantalizingly close to his face
before withdrawing it as she slowly lowered her skirt.
Mariah occasionally did stripteases for her sex
partners; she joked that she had to practice in case
she needed something to fall back on.
Now only her silk panties were left for Ben, who was
itching to clutch them; Mariah hooked her thumbs under
the fabrice, and with her back to him slipped it down.
She smiled to herself as she heard his gasp at the
sight of her cheeks; she stepped out of the panties,
tossed them to the floor and let him see her bare
front. Mariah’s full, luscious breasts were waiting
for him, with a well-trimmed snatch between her legs.
She was beautiful, and she was all his. Ben ran his
hands up her long, smooth legs in wonder, his eyes
fixed on her face.
“I can’t wait for bed,” he said quietly, and clutching
her thighs, he opened his mouth and began to taste
Mariah’s tender box right on the table, as the next
track began. Mariah peacefully stroked his balding
head as she felt his mouth kiss and lick her opening;
she was loving it. Not the best she’d ever had, but at
least he was taking his time… he wanted to savour
this night. She felt his hands cupping her backside,
groping and stroking as he mumbled into her pubes.
With his fingers probing her flesh, and Ben starting
to move up her body, she started to wonder if this was
so bad. She was enjoying it, and she was getting paid
for it, and she was giving him pleasure… was this
really such a bad way to be?
Ben was by now moving his head back and forth between
her breasts as she stroked him, moving lightly all
over his body. He felt his heart race faster when she
found his prick; for the first time in years someone
other than himself started to play with it. Even if
this wasn’t the real Mariah, he thought to himself as
he folded her into his arms, this was worth it…
* * * * * * * * * *
Ben was the first man Mariah made happy for Josephine,
but he wasn’t the last.
If only they could all have been like that.
Like the night she had been contracted to spend with
another customer – Josephine had intentionally placed
Mariah on her books as an uncanny lookalike,
speculating that she might get work from people eager
to fuck a celeb. (She was right.) But the motives of
the people who chose her weren’t always the highest.
Mariah had gone to meet Mr. and Mrs. Howell a week
later; like a lot of Josephine’s clients, they were
wealthy and discreet. They were also quite happy to
swap bed-partners, and seemed quite interested in the
stories Mariah told about “herself.” Miss Carey in
return found the Howells quite easy to get along with,
and as they returned to the house, she thought this
was going to be a good gig.
“Okay,” Mr. Howell said cheerfully, “now the way we
usually do things is we kick back, watch the late
night shows and then up to bed. You can join us if
you’d like, or would you rather we cut to the chase?”
“You’re asking me?” Mariah asked, surprised but happy.
“But you’re the customer.”
“We’re only happy if you’re happy,” Mrs. Howell
“Well, I’m here to serve you,” Mariah told them.
“Excellent,” Mr. Howell beamed, rubbing his hands.
“Chrissie darling, I think we can begin.”
Chrissie instantly began to undress, with Mariah
looking on and smiling appreciatively. The Howells
were in their 50s, and were fit with it. “You look
great,” the singer said, and found a finger wagging in
her face from Mrs. Howell.
“Ah-ah-ah,” she laughed. “Not a sound from you until
we’re finished. And get the clothes off; my husband
works hard for moments like this.” Indeed, Mariah
could feel his eyes on her all the way as she
disrobed, feeling not really embarrassed but slightly
“Now, you have to understand that Chrissie has always
wanted to do a few things to Mariah Carey; nothing
permanent you understand – she just wants her to
understand that she’s never going to replace Miss
The penny began its long plunge to the bottom of the
abyss of Mariah’s mind as she saw Mrs. Howell put on a
Diana Ross mask, and indicate that Mariah go on her
knees. Not saying a word, she did – and she soon found
her face filled with Mrs. Howell’s trimmed crotch.
Mariah looked at Mr. Howell.
“I’ve always wanted to watch Mariah be fucked by all
the other divas… Diana, Whitney, Aretha, even Celine
Dion. And finally my own dear wife. The night is long,
and I’m sure you’ll love it. Go on…”
Mariah started to lick “Diana’s” cunt; years of
fucking had left it loose, but it didn’t taste too
bad. At least she wasn’t dry below. Mariah’s
enthusiasm started to rise as she heard Mrs. Howell
start to babble on about her unquestionable greatness,
in accordance with Diana Ross’s notoriously large ego.
She let her tongue play with her customer’s box,
thanking the stars she wasn’t really going down on
Miss Ross. Mrs. Howell wasn’t nearly as scrawny for a
“Give it to me like I deSERRRVE!!” Mrs. H commanded,
and Mariah put herself into it harder, stroking her
customer’s legs and licking her lips – her pussy lips,
that is. Mrs. Howell bent forward and cupped one of
Mariah’s heavy tits. “No pasties… good. A lot better
than Li’l Kim any day. When you’ve finished…” She
stopped talking, as she felt the tingling that had
started when the sexy Miss Carey had put her tongue to
work began to reach its peak. “…when you’ve
finished… I… want… to… suckon… those…
Mrs. Howell felt the waves of joy crashing through her
body as Mariah’s mouth finished her off; without
waiting for breath she dragged Mariah up, and grabbed
her lover’s breasts. Greedily she slurped on Mariah’s
nipples and squeezed the flesh, moulding and kneading
them in joy. Mrs. Howell sank her teeth into Mariah’s
right breast, and sucked hard.
“You’re gorgeous, and you’re mine. Right, baby?” she
asked. Mariah nodded.
“Good; come on up with me. In a few moments I’m going
to give my husband a treat – you’re going to fuck him
while I watch… but first, we’re going to share you.
Just to remind you who’s the boss. Ready, Neil?”
She nodded to Mr. Howell, who was standing behind
Mariah, with something gleaming on his arm. Mariah
studied it for a moment before realising it was
Vaseline. His arm was covered in it, all the way up to
the elbow. Mrs. Howell’s fist was clenched, and Mariah
wished she could say something… but a job was a job.
“And I’ve got a treat for you – you can talk now… as
long as you say precisely what I tell you to say.
Anything apart from ‘Yes, Miss Ross’ and we do this
again, okay?” Mrs. Howell asked, still smiling.
“Yes, Miss Ross,” Mariah replied.
“Oh, put some enthusiasm into it.”
“Yes, Miss Ross!”
Mrs. Howell’s fist started to open up Mariah’s pussy,
while behind her our heroine felt her ass widening
with her husband’s arm. Jeez Louise, it hurt… and he
was twisting his arm around so it felt like she was
trying to get the world’s biggest corkscrew in there.
Mariah wanted to howl, but all she could do was take
“This is great, isn’t it?” Mrs. Howell asked.
“Yes, Miss Ross!” Mariah agreed, and noticed her
customer’s hand was all the way inside her cunt.
“You love being fucked by Diana Ross, don’t you?”
“YES, MISS ROSS!”
“And you love her man coring your butt, don’t you?”
Trying not to scream with Mr. Howell’s fist and
forearm slowly stretching her asshole to its limits,
Mariah shouted “YES, MISS ROSS!”
“And no one fucks better than Diana Ross, right?!”
“YES, MISS ROSS!” Mariah screamed in what her
customers took for ecstasy, as they started pulling
their arms back and forth, pounding the insides of her
entrances, and listening to Mariah Carey shout “YES,
MISS ROSS! YES, MISS ROSS! YES, MISS ROSS!” over and
over and over.
She counted the seconds until the arms left her gaping
anus and snatch.
* * * * * * * * * *
Even the money wasn’t worth it; Mariah only had to
serve Josephine once a week, but the cut she took was
shocking. Mariah had been about to argue about her
only getting to keep 5%, but Miss Callas had just said
the word “CSSA,” and she played along. The singer had
found herself cursing the site – it had been fun at
first, but now it was just one more problem in her
already problem-filled life.
No, wait… it wasn’t the site’s fault. It wasn’t her
fault either. It was Josephine’s. The slag was playing
her along and there wasn’t anything she could do about
it. Mariah couldn’t even contact Scott on account of
their being employees. She grabbed a bottle of water
from her fridge and slugged the contents down her
throat in frustration.
Then she had a brainwave. She couldn’t call out Scott,
but she did have a friend who could…
* * * * * * * * * *
The deal was that Scott would come to the hotel at
around seven and meet Bianca by a phone booth, and
then… who knows? He was a little cross that the job
was all the way on the other side of the city, but on
the other hand she wasn’t the first woman he’d been
with who’d wanted to keep certain close acquaintances
from not having a chance of spotting them.
Scott arrived in the lobby at five to seven, and
casually looked around for a booth. Yep, there it was
– and there she was. Dark glasses, and a red rose
pinned to her coat. Bianca, like she said. “Once more
unto the breach,” he said to himself, and strolled
over to the woman.
“Bianca…?” he asked, as the woman looked at him from
under her glasses.
“Not who you were expecting, huh?” the warbler
laughed. “I thought ‘Bianca’ should come out of
retirement for one night only.”
“Then who was that on the phone?” asked Scott. “Callas
said I was meeting this Italian woman…”
“Did she speak something like this?” Mariah asked, in
a thick Italian accent. Scott shook his head, but any
displeasure at being tricked was wiped out by his
happiness at seeing her again. The two employees made
their way towards the lift, each counting the seconds
until they were alone.
“Why didn’t you call before?” Scott wondered when they
arrived, and immediately began undressing.
“Can you keep a secret? What am I saying – of course
you can. Your boss got me working for her…”
“You’re kidding. I mean, you’ve certainly got the body
and the talent for the job…”
“Thank you. But I didn’t really have the choice; she
made me do it, otherwise she’d blab about this whole
CSSA thing.” She then explained to Scott about the
fracas that had led to it, adding “It was in that
contract she gave me.”
“Are you sure? You did read it through, right?”
Mariah nodded. “I’ve got a Xerox of my copy here –
she’s got the original, but I made a copy of it the
day it was done.” She always carried it with her, as a
reminder of the state she was in. “See… it says
right here. ‘We, the undersigned, do hereby agree to
enact all the stories about Mariah Carey featured on
Celebrity Sex Stories Archive unless otherwise
directed, until such time as the stories…’ Oh my
dear sweet Lord.”
“What is it?” Scott asked.
“Unless otherwise directed.” Mariah remembered the
contract she’d seen in Josephine’s office – she had
been forced to read it through at least three times,
but this was the first time she had been able to
mentally compare the two. The words “unless otherwise
directed” hadn’t been in the copy Josephine had… but
they had been in the original one. “Oh baby Jesus –
that Callas suckered me!”
* * * * * * * * * *
Josephine studied Mariah’s photocopy of the original
contract. “Don’t try and play me for a fool, Carey,”
she told her. “Trying to pass this off as the real
“It’s the other way around and you know it,” Mariah
retorted. “I think if I took this (pointing to the
contract) to an expert he’d finger this signature of
mine as more fake than your lips. Of course, if it IS
the real thing you’ll have nothing to worry about, so
if you’ll just hand it over we can get this sorted out
by the evening.”
Josephine shook her head.
“What’s the matter?” Mariah taunted. “Afraid your
little game’ll come out?”
“What do you want?” Miss Callas asked sullenly.
“First, I want out of this. Second, Scott Murphy.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Scott had also been chafing under Josephine’s control;
he was good, and he knew it. He certainly wanted a
higher take for himself, but he also wanted a bit more
freedom than the Iron Lady was willing to give. Until
Mariah had come along, he was beginning to wonder if
he’d ever manage to break out – Josephine had
indicated that she could make life very difficult for
him if he suddenly decided to quit. But now there he
was, liberated like the slave he had been. Lying in
bed with Mariah, he could finally put his grand plan
“And how many guys do you know who’ve got an
interest?” Mariah asked, fondling his chest.
“Quite a few,” Scott answered, stroking her back.
“It’ll probably be a collective thing – everyone
working for the good of the company and all that.”
“And I thought romantic prostitutes were only in the
movies,” Mariah smiled.
“Come on, I’ve got a better body than Julia Roberts
and you know it,” Scott told her.
“Smaller teeth too.” Mariah kissed Scott’s chest. “You
know, I could throw some business your way. Most of us
have to use guys like you. And we could spread the
“Believe me, you’ve already helped enough by getting
me out of there. I should be thanking you.”
“You wanna thank me?” Mariah asked, a knowing grin on
her face. “You’ve got everything you need for that
right about…” And her fingers closed around a
dangling part of Scott, who returned the grin.
“Well, how about each time you and I get together it’s
on the house? I don’t want it to seem like a business
deal when we’re together,” he continued, his hands
caressing the singer’s body. She was so full and
sexy… for all the bad press she got, he wouldn’t
trade her for a dozen Ashantis.
“I checked out that site today,” Scott continued, as
she climbed onto him, relishing the way his cock and
her cunt meshed together. “I can’t believe someone
actually sat down and wrote a story about how he was
your official cuntsucker.”
“Yeah, that is weird,” Mariah laughed, as she levered
herself forward. “That’s YOUR job.”
It was too bad that most of those stories didn’t leave
something to the imagination, Mariah thought as Scott
took her in his arms. She could imagine a CSSA story
going into great detail about what was about to
happen, instead of just letting the reader picture it
* * * * * * * * * *
Subject: Meeting place
I’ve finally taken the plunge and decided it’s time we
met; how about this Friday night? I can’t think of a
better way to start the weekend than with another
I’ll be waiting outside Tower Records at (a central
location of the city), 8pm. Dark jumper, blue jeans,
and the new copy of “Blender.” Don’t tell me what
you’ll be wearing; I want it to be a surprise.
“Oh, it will be a surprise,” Mariah laughed as she
read the message. “Count on it.”
She pressed “Reply” and began to write.