Cindy Inc.: A Night With Casablancas

The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford –

supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The

conduct of the characters is not meant to represent

how they actually are; the events are fictional and

not meant for under 18s. Any comments to go to or the message boards.

This story was first written for my Cindy And Laetitia

Stories Yahoo! Club, explaining its relative

shortness, and was there in slightly different form

(Cindy’s rival in the “pilot” [“Recruitment”] and a

couple of the early non-CSSA stories was originally

Anna Nicole Smith; it’s been
rewritten here to bring

it in line with the series, but otherwise it’s as it

was originally – except for the spanking). And as you

may have guessed, I’m not a big admirer of John “Me me

me” Casablancas. Unsurprisingly, he’s mates with Naomi


* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you sure you want to go there, sir?” asked

John Casablancas’ chauffeur.

“Yes, very sure,” said the head of Elite. “I might as

well pay one of my protegees a visit.”

“Yes, sir,” the chauffeur said instead of “Oh for

God’s sake man, you didn’t CREATE her!” or words to

that effect going through his head. Like most of

Cindy’s (and other models’) fans, he was sick and

tired of his boss telling everyone under the sun that

they wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for him,

but as long as he was driving for the big-headed fat

fucker he had no option but to keep his mouth shut.

“Unless she’s banned me?” he asked.

“No – no one’s banned without doing something first.

Not even her dad.”

“Avaricious little bitch,” Casablancas chuckled.

“Still, I think it’s time she paid me back for all I

did for her…”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Oh for the love of God SHUT UP!”

This wasn’t the chauffeur, and nor was it Cindy. It

was Jennifer Lopez, who had had it with hearing about

how much better Cindy was doing than Jennifer’s place,

J-Lo’s (that “Access Hollywood” bit was the last

straw). Jennifer hurled a rock at the set to “switch

it off” permanently.

“That’s the third one this week, Annie,” Jane Seymour


“Like I give a fuck?” Jennifer snarled. “I know we’re

doing good business but everyone always says Cindy’s

better…” she gritted her teeth and felt a little

ground tooth fall away before continuing. “There has

to be a way to get her out of the business.”

“You know, this town IS big enough for the two of

you,” Jane pointed out.

“I hate to share, Dr. Quinn. Don’t you know that by

now? I… hate… to… share.”

“Maybe if you were to go out on the floor


or even weekly like Cindy – ”

“Monthly is my limit. They do the work, I get the


And that, Jane thought, is part of the problem.

* * * * * * * * * *

This being a weeknight, it wasn’t all systems go at

Cindy Inc., but it was still pretty busy. John tried

to ignore Catherine Zeta-Jones being DP’d to the left

of her and Daniela Pestova giving a hand job to the

right, and strode to the on-floor MC.

“Where’s Cindy?” he asked Elle Macpherson.

“She’s upstairs, but you CAN’TGOTHROUGH-” and she was

brushed aside as John went upstairs. Or would have


upstairs if he hadn’t felt some very strong hands grab

his arms and legs. “Okay pal, the lady said you can’t

go upstairs…”

“I discovered her, you big bastard! I’m John


“I’m someone who doesn’t give a fuck, sir. Cindy only

does one trick a night, and she’s booked up so far in

advance you’ll be dead before she gets to you.”

“What gives her the right to-”

“It’s her place, Johnny,” Elle pointed out. “If it was

my place, I’d be careful dishing it out as well.”

“Of course, you can get on the waiting list…

although she has been known to make some exceptions.”

John’s eyes lit up. “Exceptions?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Round. Firm. Beautiful. Perfect. And best of all,

there were two of them.

Cindy Crawford lay on her front before the man, her

buns displayed for his inspection. And his hands; he

rubbed them with glee, waiting to see how they’d feel.

For her part, Cindy was relieved that he’d be using

his hands – slippers were fine, but hairbrushes or (as

one of her ladies had been unfortunate to experience)

whips? No thanks.

The man kneaded Cindy’s bottom in preparation for his

handiwork, regretting that he didn’t have the extra

money for a spot of anal sex (“Cindy Crawford has the

sweetest asshole on the planet IMHO!!!” one

enthusiastic customer had written in the comments

book). “Wonderful,” he sighed to himself.

“Thank you…” Cindy answered as she waited for his

hands to stop and start WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

Quick as bullets coming from a gun, the gentleman

paddled Cindy’s ass as she cried out – it stung, but

it was warm with it. His prick stiffened further at

the sight of the flesh and at how soft and firm it

felt; he laid his hand onto her again and again,

slapping her cheeks and singing along as he did. Cindy

couldn’t help but grin as she shouted to him about how

great it was (not really, but it was a living). The

man slapped Cindy’s buttocks, now a fetching shade of

crimson, one last time. Like others before him, he

couldn’t believe how good they felt. “This, Miss

Crawford, is without a doubt the best $200 I ever

spent,” he sighed.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Cindy replied. “I try to


“Not just try,” he chuckled, kissing his lover and

each rosy, sexy buttock in turn. “I’ve

already put my name down for another go.”

“Maybe your divorce will have come through by then,”

Cindy laughed, as another satisfied customer left. She

stretched out on her luxurious bed and waited for the

feeling in her legs to return, as her phone went off.

She knew it was Elle on the other end, with a problem

no doubt.

“Talk to me.”

“Cindy, there’s some guy downstairs who wants to talk

about doing a deal with you.”

“It’s first come, first served.”

Elle lowered her voice so he wouldn’t hear her. “It’s

the Prick.”

Cindy’s smile vanished. “I can tell him you’re not

taking any new orders now if you want,” Elle offered.

Cindy was pensive. On the one hand, she was well

within her rights to tell him to go and jump off a

cliff. On the other hand, he WAS a paying customer…

“Send him up, we’ll work something out.”

Wondering where this masochistic urge had come from,

Elle gave him the go-ahead. And soon Mr. C was inside

Cindy’s boudoir, with a far-from-subtle expression of

glee on his face.

“I saw the price list,” he announced briskly, “and I

was wondering how much it would be for the whole


“First of all, I’m not going to be with you tonight,”

Cindy said equally briskly, “but I think we can sort

out another arrangement – maybe push you up the

waiting list a bit…”

“No, you don’t understand. I want to buy this whole

place. I’m willing to pay whatever you – ”

“Get out,” Cindy replied. “Now.”

“No, hear me out. You owe me big time.”

“We did all the work, and you kept taking bits of what

we earned. Now you’re looking to take even more of the

ladies’ cash? We managed to come to an agreement last

time, but this is MY business.” Cindy buzzed in the

security people. “I usually don’t ban customers unless

they go too far, but I’m making an exception in your

case. Jim, Victor, escort this gentleman to his car –

he’s banned from this place until either hell freezes

over or the Teletubbies sweep the Emmies.” She gave

him a cold smile. “And you’ve got a better chance of

fucking Dipsy than of fucking me.”

Hurling fire and brimstone, Casablancas was escorted

out of the building. “Why not go over to Lopez’s

place?” Jim suggested. “More your speed.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The following night, John was indeed at Lopez’s.

Meanwhile, Cindy was with Anna Friel as part of her

night’s duty.

Cindy’s boudoir was the largest and plushest room in

the place; she liked her customers to have comfort.

The size was also welcome if she was entertaining more

than one person at a time; for instance, if she was in

a daisy chain with Anna Friel and two male punters.

The lovely British actress was a new recruit to the

fold, and had quickly proven to be one of the best of

the bunch – she was also as much of a screamer as

Cindy, which when combined with the enthusiastic men

made for a right racket. Anna was doing her business

in a Liverpool accent as one of the customers had

requested (he was also a Brit and had fallen for her

when she was on “Brookside,” and didn’t mind that she

was unwilling to play Beth to Cindy’s Margaret, and

she was hotly kissing the man in question while the

other gentleman was slurping at her snatch. The first

man, meanwhile, was enjoying the dual pleasure of

kissing Anna while the boss – Cindy – was giving one

of her patented blowjobs.

One reason Cindy limited herself to one gig a night

was that she really threw herself into her work; she

put a lot of effort into her work in general and her

sex in particular, and as she hungrily swallowed the

man’s cock while pumping the works with her hands, she

could feel herself starting to sweat. She felt the

first drops of come seeping from the tip – it wouldn’t

be long now…

“CHANGE!!!” she shouted as she released the prick and

the man’s meat splattered her face. It didn’t really

smell that great, but it wasn’t her place to criticise

the customers.

“Do you think you could…?” the other man asked as he

squeezed Anna’s thighs.

“She told you, not unless you do it to him,” Anna

chided. It was a known fact that Cindy had not had sex

with any of the women there (with the exception of

Laetitia Casta), and nor was she going to.

“What if we did?” he asked with a dirty grin, as he

and his mate started to stroke Cindy.

“Well, if you did…” Anna started, and looked at


* * * * * * * * * *

John Casablancas was not a happy camper, meanwhile.

Sex with Jennifer Lopez had not been as great as he

had hoped, and she had refused to give him a refund.

“You should be GLAD you got to put it in me!” she told


“God, I don’t know how you manage to keep going,” he

grumbled. “When I buy out Cindy Crawford, you’ll be


“Buy her out? You want to take over moley?” Jennifer

said. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” She rang the bell

to summon Denise Richards. “When Denise gets here,

she’ll see about your refund… I think we might be

able to talk business.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The two gentleman punters watched Cindy pushing

Anna’s breasts together and kissing them with pure

pleasure. The price they paid for this extra was an

odd one (they weren’t used to having penises in thier

mouths), but it was a fair one – and like the other

folks who had previously agreed to this, they all

thought it was worth it. Oh yeah.

Anna had to admit to herself that she wasn’t into it

much, but Cindy wasn’t noted for unfairness – there

was always a bonus whenever stuff like this was done.

Not that she didn’t enjoy Cindy’s tongue slowly

leaving a trail down her torso, or Cindy’s kisses

gradually sending her cares away.

As the supermodel rubbed her head against the

actress’s stomach and fondled her shaved box, Cindy


hoping that one day someone might request a menage a

trois with her, the customer and Laetitia – then she

wouldn’t feel so guilty about sticking her tongue into

the opening of the lady she was with. But until

then… she dived in. Anna’s pussy was a good one – no

wonder the other guy had looked so happy.

Cindy’s bobbing head and Anna’s pants were making the

customers happy as well; they studied Cindy’s grinding

body in total fascination. One of them couldn’t

resist; he knelt down and started licking Cindy’s

openings below, while the other began to stroke her

thighs. Cindy tried to look as if she wasn’t aware,

but Anna could feel her boss’s tongue getting more

enthusiastic by the second. For the first time, she

was looking forward to being made to come by a woman

for real…

* * * * * * * * * *

Denise Richards finished counting out the money to a

happier John Casablancas, feeling a tingling in her

butt (Casablancas had agreed to take a reduction if he

could give her a slight spanking). “That never happens

again, understand?” she told him.

“I understand,” he lied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I

have a lying bitch to buy out.”

“You’re going after my boss?” Denise asked hopefully

(several of Jennifer Lopez’s workers secretly

preferred Cindy).

Casablancas didn’t answer. He had found out Cindy’s

full material worth – around $35 million. He knew she

was business-minded; he felt she would be willing to

sell to him. And then there would be a few changes

made around there.

* * * * * * * * * *

The following morning he returned to Cindy, Inc. By

that evening one of them was in for one hell of a

shock… Cindy had gathered all the ladies together

for the occasion of this discussion.

“Well?” Casablancas asked Cindy, as she examined the

cheque. “You’ll still be the figurehead boss, of

course – no one wants to see me in a basque. Even I

know that.”

“You got that right,” Rebecca Romijn-Stamos muttered

under her breath.

“Hmmm…. it is tempting. I think I could actually

have the place for less.”

If the Oscar committee had just announced Madonna was

up for Best Actress, her women couldn’t have been more

shocked. Mouths dropped agape, drinks were spat out,

the works. But Cindy knew what she was doing. And

Casablancas was chuckling – things were going even

better than he had planned.

“But that depends on what my partners say,” Cindy

continued, turning to them. “If I do sell to him,

raise your hands if you’ll leave.”

Elle Macpherson and Laetitia Casta JUST managed to

beat the others in a race to put their hands up – to

be precise, the only person in the room whose hands

weren’t up was also the only person in the room with a


Cindy crumpled up the cheque and tossed it at his


“Unless you’re willing to go through the whole process

of building up a new team,” she told him, “and given

what the ladies here are spreading about you you

wouldn’t have much luck even if you did… you and I

have no further business. And by the way, you’re no

longer welcome here.”

“Well, there’s always J-Lo’s,” he managed to retort as

he flounced out to the relief of all, unaware that

that evening he would also be barred from THAT place

as well – Jennifer Lopez did not care for spanking any

more than Denise Richards did…

* * * * * * * * * *

Cindy Crawford may have been a supermodel, mother and

celebrity bordello owner, but she – like all the other

ladies who served at Cindy Inc. – also had to keep up

her other commitments; the odd magazine shoot here,

appearances to promote stuff there. Even though she

was strictly speaking a retired model, she still kept

herself pretty busy, and still welcomed a chance to

relax at home… whenever she wasn’t overseas for some

weeks in a row, she took one night off a week from

thrashing around between silken sheets at $1000 a go,

with instructions that she wasn’t to be called in

unless it was an emergency.

She’d received no such calls for the past few weeks,

and it was with not a care in the world that she

relaxed in the bath that Wednesday night. Cindy’s mind

was additionally at peace with the knowledge that

Jennifer Love Hewitt was on holiday – JLH was a

favourite with customers and was a total sweetheart,

but it did seem that every time she rang she had bad

news… and there was her phone now. “Talk to me,” the

brunette said lazily after picking it up with one

soapy hand.

“Did I wake you up?” asked Liv Tyler, who was

co-running the place that night.

“No, just having a bath… any problems?”

“Not really – the band’s a few minutes late but

they’ll be here, Beyonce’s dad wants another cut of

her commission, and someone wants a four way with

Ashley Harkleroad and the Williams sisters.”

“Rande wants a three way with me and Ashley as

well…” Cindy laughed, before realising what Liv had

said. “The Williams sisters?”

“Yep, and he’s not leaving until he gets it.

Satisfaction guaranteed and all that.”

Cindy started to sluice the bubble bath off her body,

sighing as she prepared to go down to Cindy Inc.

Getting him what he wanted would be rough, since Venus

worked for Cindy, Serena worked for Jennifer Lopez,

and Ashley was still dithering between the two…

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