Cindy Inc.: Last Woman Standing, Part 2

The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford –

supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The

celebrities are real, but the way they’re used isn’t

how they are in real life. (Except for Monica Bellucci

wearing hardly anything, obviously.) All comments,

complaints, whatever to go on the message boards or to

cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk.

Previously on “Cindy Inc.”: Cindy and four of her

ladies (Monica, Sophie Anderton, Emmanuelle Beart and

Holly Valance) have been summoned by the

multimilionaire McMurdo family for a command

performance, and find they’ll be competing against
a

team from J-Lo’s – Asia Argento, Catherine Zeta Jones,

Sophie Marceau, Melissa George and team leader

Angelina Jolie – in a hunt through the island’s jungle

to decide which lady will be the mother of the oldest

son’s child, in a contest which millions throughout

the world are watching secretly, complete with

commentators and bets. The women are being chased by

the McMurdos and each other; Holly and Catherine are

already gone, and it looks like Monica will be the

next at the hands of Asia. Now read on…

* * * * * * * * * *

Asia was about ten feet from Monica when she made her

move. She was fast and she was wiry; Monica would be

hers before you could say “Scarlet Diva.”

But fast as she was, being in the jungle had left them

all on edge; Monica snapped her head towards the

source of the sound Asia made when she jumped out of

the bushes, and screamed “ARGENTO!!!” as she flew

through the air. This time Cindy, Emmanuelle and

Sophie were close enough to get over there in time as

Asia hit the ground, bruising her chin as she landed.

But the real pain was in knowing she had failed.

Still, she who fights and runs away…

“Another time,” she hissed and ran for it.

“No,” Monica rasped. “Now!” She raced after her as

Cindy called for Monica to stop, let her go, leave the

grudge match for later… but the chase was on. Monica

was angry, and anger gave her speed. Soon she had left

the American, the Brit and the Gaul far behind,

vaulting over roots and bursting through foliage in

her determination to get Asia.

“How can she run so fast? I mean, you’d think those

gigantic tits would slow her down…” Sophie Anderton

grumbled.

Ironically, Monica Bellucci’s mountains were also on

Asia Argento’s mind; because hers were smaller she

knew she didn’t have to worry about them getting in

the way of things, and she also thought that the lack

of extra weight made it easier to get away. She took a

quick peek behind; yes, the greenery was building up,

AND she couldn’t see Monica. She’d lost her! Now all

she had to do was get back in touch with her friends,

and –

One moment she was flying away from Monica, the next

she was eating dirt. Someone or something had slammed

into her and had clapped her hand over her mouth to

stop her making a sound. Asia’s eyes were sparking

with rage as she glared at Carter McMurdo; he had

skulked behind her even more carefully than she had

followed Monica. “You… You…!” she muttered, trying

to sink her teeth into his hand.

“Shut up and listen!” he told her as quietly and

forcefully as he could. “I don’t want Cindy Crawford

to win any more than you do…”

Asia stopped struggling, and her eyes calmed down.

This was sounding interesting.

“Some members of my family are very keen that none of

Cindy’s women come out on top. Money, know what I

mean?”

Asia nodded.

“I’ve got a LOT of money on Lara Croft winning. And

McMurdos don’t like to lose – now if you play along we

can see to it that Cindy’s team gets reduced while

yours… isn’t. And in case you’re wondering, I didn’t

get Monica because if I stopped to poke her you

would’ve gotten away, and then we couldn’t have had

this little arrangement. Now, how about it?”

Asia winked as Carter let her go, as Monica – who had

kept after Asia but had taken cover on hearing

Carter’s arrival – briskly and quietly got out of

range of their ears. He had lowered his voice because

he knew Monica was around, but it wasn’t the voice

that had tipped her off; it was the sight of Carter.

She had glimpsed him, wondered why there had been no

tell-tale thrashing, put two and two together and come

up with a very worrying four.

Safely out of earshot, Monica Bellucci began to run.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Where’s she off to?” Charisma Carpenter asked

herself.

“Never mind that,” her partner slurred. “Can’t that

camera get any closer? YES!” he yelled in joy a moment

later as the overhead cameras zeroed in on Monica’s

breasts. Poetry in motion for sure.

“You’ve got all her movies at home, you see her tits

all the time!” Charisma pouted. “Aren’t you sick of

them?”

“I see yours all the time, and I’m not sick of them,”

he pointed out, continuing to stare at Monica running.

When was there going to be a shower scene?

“Great save.”

Monica didn’t have the viewers on her mind – all she

had on her mind was how soon it would be before she

could get back to the others. The good news was that

they weren’t far away… but even in those few

seconds, it wasn’t short enough for her to be snapped

out of her stride by an arm around her waist. Carter

had caught her; trapping sexy Italian women was his

specialty, even ones as determined to get away as

Monica. He quickly flung her down and pinned her, in

spite of all her enraged kicking and screaming.

“Thanks for making this easy,” he chuckled, pulling

Monica’s shorts off and stiffening men everywhere when

her magnificently hairy pussy was exposed to the

cameras. “You’re very obliging to men. And women.”

Right on cue, Asia joined them. Monica’s legs were

spread as she arrived, with Miss Bellucci spitting

fury and saliva at the partners; ignoring the foul

soundtrack, Asia cast her eyes on Monica’s cunt.

“Lying on your back with your legs apart. Standard

operating procedure for you, right?” she sneered.

“Wow, this is interesting,” Gabby said in the studio

(the front room of the McMurdos’s mansion). “Monica’s

being double-teamed by a McMurdo and one of J-Lo’s…

is this against the rules?”

“The rich are different from you and me,” Leeann told

her.

“You and I, you ignorant Yank – no offence, Lisa,”

Gabby told her colleague.

“Anyway, if this isn’t against the rules, it should

be,” Kirsty continued. “Come on Monica, you didn’t

make a movie with Vin bloody Diesel, give that

tasteless talentless jerk what she deserves!”

“Asia’s getting some heavy duty equipment out… guess

she’s going to make Monica all airtight before she has

her way with her… no wait a minute, HERE SHE COMES

TO SAVE THE DAY…!” Leeann sang out, as a new figure

joined the fray. The four women started to yak

excitedly at this new twist, as they watched Asia be

dragged off Monica by a blonde, angry Frenchwoman.

“You think you’re the only person who can follow

people around? DO YOU?!?” Emmanuelle Beart hollered as

Monica was relieved of Asia’s weight. Her relief

turned to alarm as Carter leaped onto her – and leaped

off a second later as she slammed her knee into his

exposed crotch. Both his prick and him fell down limp

and useless, as Monica got up and joined Asia and

Emmanuelle. “No, I can do her myself…” the French

actress panted as she ripped off Asia’s clothes. “Go –

I’ll handle Carter…”

“No, I will.” And Monica kicked him again in the same

spot. Harder. “Be a good boy and just lie there.” And

she raced off to join the others, Carter’s cock aching

a bit harder at the sight of her round, receding rump.

Sighing a little – even if she was with the enemy she

was still fine – he turned his attention to Asia, who

raged furiously as Emmanuelle opened the bag, humming

happily as she took out the plugs and silken scarf

inside.

“I hear you like to go the autoasphyxiation route…

not today, but this still has its uses,” she said,

tying Asia’s hands together securely. “So you want to

go airtight, do you? Always willing to please, that’s

me,” she added, laughing while she ducked her head

down and inserted a vibrator into Asia’s cunt.

“Ssssssh – I like listening to it go in…”

“Listen to this, loser!”

“Look, you weren’t in ‘Mission: Impossible,’ get over

it,” Emmanuelle chided as she turned it on, and

watched Asia’s face as the buzzing started to work.

Then she indicated that Asia turn over – “I’m not

going to roll you, my dear” – and as the sullen

Italian complied, Emmanuelle pinched the cheeks. “Not

bad. Not as nice as our Monica’s, of course, but not

bad.” She spread apart Asia’s rump, lightly sucked on

the butt plug to wetten it, and jammed it inside,

patting the buttocks as they closed up after it.

“Oh, you are going to pay for thiMMMMM – ” and Asia

got no further as Emmanuelle stuffed a lifelike dildo

far into her mouth, whistling to Carter. Still wincing

a little, he crawled over to the two women as

Emmanuelle started to kiss Asia’s breasts tenderly,

while running her fingers through her short black

hair. “Now, do you want these things out of you or

not?”

Asia nodded.

“Well, first of all, you need to suck off poor Carter

here. Soothe his penis a little. And you need to do it

three times. One for each plug.”

Asia mumbled something through the dildo, and

Emmanuelle pulled it out.

“When I’m through with you – ”

Emmanuelle stuck it back in. “Like I was saying, do

him and I’ll let out one plug. Do ME and I’ll let out

the other. Fair enough?” She pulled it out again, and

this time Asia didn’t say anything because it was

promptly replaced by Carter’s cock. Smiling,

Emmanuelle moved behind the younger woman and began to

fondle her back. She was a nice person, really, once

you were in total control of her. And stroking Asia

was like fondling velvet… the older Frenchwoman

slowed her pace so she could savour the experience.

Asia, on the other hand, slowed down nothing as she

loved Carter’s sore organ. Monica had stamped on it

hard enough to leave some bruises, and it still ached

a little, but Asia’s sucking was easing the pain

somewhat. Carter was starting to forget about that

big-boobed psycho, and focusing more on a

smaller-boobed one.

Emmanuelle slowly started to pull the item out of

Asia’s cunt. A bargain was a bargain; and in any case,

she had been wanting to eat Italian for some time now.

Cindy had looked like she’d been having the time of

her life between Monica’s legs… studying Asia’s

clean-shaven box, she moistened her own lips and then

dipped down. Aaaah, that was the stuff; Asia tasted

not too bad. Emmanuelle moved her tongue around her

opponent’s opening slowly and sensitively, then pushed

inside. She started a little when she tasted how warm

the woman was; no wonder some of her movies weren’t

that far removed from pornography. Then she nosed

around further, flicking her tongue inside Asia’s box.

She was so fantastic, and she was getting wetter all

the time… Emmanuelle knew what was happening. She

was finishing up with Carter.

The young man’s pain had all gone as he emptied

himself into Asia’s mouth, pulled out the prick

without ceremony and zipped himself up. “What…?”

Asia started, as she listened to Emmanuelle’s moans

and mumbles.

“I’ve still got Monica to get,” he told her brusquely,

giving her the only excuse she could accept for guys

fucking and leaving. Asia nodded in understanding,

hating herself for how good she was feeling.

Emmanuelle had insisted she didn’t like girls to

friends, but for someone who didn’t like them she was

sure liking Asia. She wished she had her hands free so

she could pet the Frenchwoman. But in spite of that…

“You know… if Carter doesn’t poke Bellucci…

Philip… or one of the others… WILLLLL!!!!” And

Asia forgot all about the hunt as she erupted over

Emmanuelle Beart’s angelic lips.

But Emmanuelle didn’t.

* * * * * * * * * *

Asia Argento cursed herself for not asking Emmanuelle

to at least let her be eaten out before leaving her

there, still tied up.

But at least she had taken the butt plug out.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Monica? Monica? MONICA!”

Sophie Anderton had been retracing her steps in an

attempt to meet up with Monica, and was overjoyed to

finally see her colleague again, running towards her.

“What happened?

“Asia is what happened. Her and one of our hosts,”

Monica said tersely, and told her what had happened,

as Holly Valance and Catherine Zeta Jones watched from

the comfort of the McMurdo estate. Holly’s anger at

being no longer in the game was eased by her being

told that one of J-Lo’s team had been taken out just

after she herself was caught – not even the fact that

it wasn’t Melissa George took away from that. Although

it would have been nice. The two women, along with the

other people as they were caught, would have the run

of the estate, and they were settling back to enjoy

some TV before getting some rest.

“This show’s awful,” a still sore Catherine grumbled

as Sophie and Monica conversed. “Can’t we change the

channel?”

“Don’t worry, if it’s slow I’m sure they’ll have shots

of you with your Oscar wedged up your jacksy,” Holly

chuckled, toasting her fallen enemy, as the screen

changed to show an image of Carter McMurdo heading

through the brush. The agony of his Bellucci-stomped

genitalia had worn off, and he was about to catch up

with his quarry. Emmanuelle, as another camera had

shown, was in pursuit, but she wouldn’t get to them in

time. And he was unlikely to let Monica get the better

of him again.

“Now this is more like it,” Catherine cackled.

* * * * * * * * * *

“GO CARTER GO! GO CARTER GO!” chanted the Dixie Chicks

bbackstage as they watched Carter race towards the

women. Natalie poked a sullen Faith Hill in the ribs –

“Cheer up, Faith, it had to happen sometime.”

Faith regretted making such a specific wager with the

DC’s – Natalie had claimed that it would be Carter

who’d score with Bellucci, and if she collected Tim

would kill her. It was even more annoying because none

of the Chicks were employed by either side. Faith

crossed her fingers and hoped for something to change

the tide, but Carter was almost on the chatting women

and…

“Oh man, NOT AGAIN!” Martie wailed. “What is this, a

fucking JOKE?”

Faith had cast her eyes from the TV, but got another

look. While Carter had been closing in on Monica and

Sophie, Emmanuelle had been trying to catch up from

behind. But Carter had been intercepted by a tall,

angry brunette with a mole. Cindy’s instincts had been

right; she had circled around when Monica had started

to come back, suspecting that she’d be followed, and

the only surprise was that it wasn’t Asia.

Carter visibly winced as Cindy hit him in the groin –

that was even less funny than it had been to start

with. Although Faith was grinning much more widely

than the Dixie Chicks were.

Back in the jungle, Carter was not having the time of

his life; Cindy’s attack was joined by Monica, Sophie

and when she arrived, Emmanuelle. Four beautiful women

all tugging and slapping him – he had dreamt something

like this once, but then it had been a lot more fun…

“Wow, now this is fun!” Holly gurgled with glee,

giving Catherine the thumbs up. “Talk about must see

TV…” As she said this, the camera moved from Cindy’s

crew to the other side, where things were much less

happy – Angelina Jolie, Melissa George and Sophie

Marceau had found Asia, and were walking away with

her, Asia still being tied up despite her demands to

be let loose NOW, DAMMIT, NOW!

“Why’d they do that?” Holly grumbled. “Something

happening they don’t want us to see?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Carter had been left there, insensible and beaten by

the ladies, who had also taken his equipment, all

except the beacon (“You might as well get your

privileged ass home,” Cindy had explained). He had

been there for a while wondering how he was going to

explain this to the others; he had finally decided to

let off the beacon and take his chances with the

family. As he fired it, he reflected that he had at

least gotten to bone Holly Valance, and that was

something nice to go out on. Her nubile, naked body

was the last thing he ever thought before the boulder

crashed into his head.

The black-garbed person who had dropped it onto him

from behind nodded and withdrew into the scrubs,

pulling Carter’s body. Holly Valance had been right –

it was something they didn’t want the viewers to see.

* * * * * * * * * *

Asia had never thought she’d ever say this, but she

wanted that silk scarf off her. She didn’t dare

stretch it to rip it off (she didn’t want it off THAT

much), but she wanted to be free. Having finally

fallen silent after cursing Angelina Jolie, Melissa

George and Sophie Marceau for what seemed like hours,

she continued marching through the jungle, the ground

all mushy beneath her feet, everything getting more

oppressive and sticky with each step.

“Look, will one of you please untie me…”

“For the last time, NO!” Angelina snapped. “You fucked

up, you stay tied until tomorrow. If we’re still here,

that is…”

“We’re still together,” Sophie pointed out. “Still

only lost one.”

“So did Cindy Damn C!” Angelina fumed. “AND they took

out Carter…”

“Yes, that was a shame,” Sophie agreed, as Asia and

Melissa exchanged a couple of shocked glances. “It

could have worked so well…”

“Wait a minute – you KNEW about this?!” Melissa asked.

“And when were you planning to tell us?”

Now it was the turn of Sophie and Angelina to exchange

glances; the dark-haired French beauty raised a

querying eyebrow, and the American nodded. “Better

tell them,” Angelina added, and the quartet stopped by

a large tree, glad for the rest.

“Just a moment,” Melissa added, and untied Asia’s

bonds. “She wasn’t the only one screwed.”

“You have to understand that we didn’t come here

expecting this to happen,” Sophie began carefully,

trying not to look at the ladies glaring at her. “It

just… happened. Last night after dinner, one of the

McMurdos called me in to see him, and he asked to do

him a favour.”

“And this favour was…?” asked Melissa.

“To bug all of us. Our team, and Cindy’s.”

“All of us?” Asia asked. “I can understand you doing

this to Cindy’s team, but why us? And why did you go

along with this, Jolly?”

“Jolie,” Angelina corrected her wearily. “I didn’t at

first, but I was persuaded… look, Sophie, tell them

why.”

“Because the McMurdo men made some very large bets

with some very large men that one of us would win,”

said the Gallic brunette. “And Philip especially has a

lot to lose if Lachlan ends up bedding one of Cindy’s.

And I do mean a LOT.”

“He’s a McMurdo,” Melissa argued. “He can stand to

lose a few dollars.”

“I mean a lot more than that…”

They didn’t understand what Sophie meant at first,

then it hit them. “Fuck…” Melissa said in a low

voice. “Who are these people he’s playing with?”

“People who don’t like to lose,” Angelina said,

stepping on an insect that had been crawling over her

foot. “So I had a word with the maid…”

* * * * * * * * * *

Actually, Angelina had had more than a word with the

maid.

Karen had left the sheets in pristine condition in the

morning; now they were unbelievably rumpled, with the

pillows and blankets all over the floor. Angelina

Jolie sprawled there on her side, stroking the soft

curves of the young English girl next to her; Karen’s

face was flushed with what had just happened. She was

sore and bruised, and she had never been so happy in

her life. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Or let me

come with you…”

“You know you can’t come,” Angelina told her, pinching

Karen’s tight behind. “But we’ll get together again

before I go.”

“Aw, do I have to wait until then?”

Angelina pinched Karen’s bottom again, holding tighter

this time. “Well…” she said as she climbed on top of

the girl again, running her free hand through the

shortened hair. “I like to let it out of my system

before I have to work, so…” She kissed Karen

fiercely, and the young English girl wrapped her arms

around the woman in delight, kissing her hard in

return. Angelina liked Karen; she dressed down, but

underneath the baggy shirts and trousers she wore she

had herself a lovely tight body; slim and sexy. Her

big lips touched Karen’s face and pert tits, nipping

the nipples as she did. Down Angelina’s head went,

hungry to taste the maid’s muff again.

Karen, her head flung back, looked up at the mirrored

ceiling. The girl had been going back and forth

between men and women for a few years before realising

that she was a woman’s woman; she had turned on her

share of men, but they weren’t ever going to get her.

Karen was moistened by Jennifer Garner and Monica

Bellucci for sure, but Jen wasn’t here and Monica

wasn’t available. But the woman she wanted most was

here, and between her legs. Karen looked up at the

reflection of the bronzed, tattooed Angelina Jolie –

short hair, horny markings, strong back, round

mouthwatering bum, great legs… and she was licking

and exploring Karen Vinton’s muff.

Karen looked back down, moving around on the bed under

Angelina’s mouth. Those lips knew their way around a

cunt as much as a cock… Karen was dying for her to

tell her that she wanted to take her back to the

States as her sex slave. But for the moment, Karen

cried out as Angelina’s tongue flicked her clit

rapidly. She would do anything for this woman.

ANYTHING…

* * * * * * * * * *

“…and I got her to plant the bugs,” Angelina

continued, thinking of Karen’s excellent breasts. She

hadn’t had to persuade her that hard, in fact – Karen

was so besotted with Angelina that she would have done

anything the woman asked, and Angelina knew it. “Phil

and Carter told me that she was dripping for me for

years… it was easy.”

“Did she try that with you as well, Soph?” asked

Melissa.

“No,” Sophie admitted. “They used something else on

me.”

“Something else? I didn’t know you were into that kind

of thing,” Asia laughed.

“I’m not,” the Frenchwoman replied, and rubbed her

thumb and forefinger together. “As they say in

America, it’s all about the Benjamins.”

In Karen’s case, it was also all about something else,

though none of them knew it.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Well, it’s been pretty quiet for a while,” Kirsty

Gallacher told the viewers, “so if we don’t find

anything happening we’re going to take ourselves a

break.”

“They all love playing to the cameras,” Lisa Dergan

suggested. “So it shouldn’t be long.”

“Yeah, especially the Cindy Inc. freaks,” Leeann

Tweeden laughed, highfiving Gabby Logan.

“You never know, Jolie might be cutting the other

girls up for kicks,” Kirsty sniggered. “Doesn’t she do

that a lot at J-Lo’s?”

“Credit where credit is due, Leeann’s right,” Gabby

interrupted. “It looks like we’ve hit the jackpot…”

The jungle thinned out to reveal a pool, at the base

of a waterfall from a high river. Emmanuelle Beart,

more exhausted than the others, was curled up on the

bank having a nap. Standing in the pool and cleaning

themselves off were Cindy Crawford, Monica Bellucci

and Sophie Anderton, all letting the natural water

rush over their splendid naked bodies, knowing they

were being watched by the viewers and wondering if

people thought they were playing up to the cameras.

(“Of course they’re playing up to the cameras,”

Vanessa Feltz told her colleagues as she sneaked a

look between records. “Two models and an actress –

allegedly – on something like this? I mean, look at

how Sophie’s holding those boobs. And the way Cindy’s

standing under the water. And as for Monica, I mean,

could she BE any more showoffy?”

“Oh, shut UP,” Feltz’s colleagues in the studio

thought.)

Cindy shook her hair underneath the stream; she didn’t

expect any hairstyling in the jungle, but it still

felt good to give her tresses some relief. At least

she had soap, and the water was perfect; her body damp

enough, she stepped away from the spilling water to

lather herself up, while Monica stayed under the

falls. Cindy was amazed at how casually nude Monica

was, at how natural it was for her; she knew there

were people gawping at her as she showered, and she

wasn’t bothered one way or the other. Once a model,

always a model; as Cindy watched, Monica felt the

water flowing over her form and – oh, she was playing

to the camera when she did that, she HAD to be! – she

took those massive boobs in her hands and lifted them

up so they could catch the water. The falls cascaded

over Monica’s tits in two mini-streams of their own,

and masturbating males the world over sped up.

Sophie Anderton, standing between the two women,

looked at both sulkily. She was just as used to being

nude as the other two, but it wasn’t so much that she

was comparatively the least attractive of the three as

that she still felt like a third wheel.

“Hey, what’s wrong Soph?” Cindy asked kindly.

“You seem worried,” Monica added. “No one’s about to

catch us.”

“Not everything has to be about this game!” Sophie

snapped at Monica. “It was… I mean, look at the two

of you! Even in LA the two of you were a good team –

and on the plane when you were…”

“They can’t edit web broadcasts, Sophie,” Cindy said.

“You can say it.”

“When you were EATING HER OUT, OKAY?” Sophie yelled.

“Did you all hear that? DID YOU?! When we were flying

over here Cindy Crawford went down on Monica Bellucci

and Bellucci LOVED IT! And I wanted to be the one!”

“To be with me or with her?” asked Monica. “You didn’t

make it that obvious.”

“With HER! I still can’t stand you… you snooty

annoying slapper… you.. you… ” Sophie looked from

one to the other, knowing that she should have kept

her tongue, but figuring it didn’t matter. She sighed,

giving up. “You’re both really fit ladies – it… it

would have been a privilege to give it to either one

of you. But especially Cindy; sorry Monica, but she IS

the boss,” she added quickly, still wanting to get her

blows in.

(“Please do an encore, please do an encore, please do

an encore…” men everywhere begged silently and in

some cases not so silently.)

“Well, when we get back…” Monica started.

“No,” Cindy interrupted. “Right now.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Now?”

“Yes,” Cindy said, her eyes twinkling. “Monica, take

care of her front,” she added as she waded around to

Sophie’s back and the Italian faced the Brit, her eyes

studying the younger woman’s bald snatch. Monica

actually preferred them to have a bit more hair like

hers or Cindy’s, but like Cindy said she was the boss.

She could see the resentment in Sophie’s eyes; part of

her didn’t want it, but part of her did. Monica knelt

down and ran her tongue over Sophie’s tits, starting

to stroke the English woman as she did; Sophie

“mmmmm”-ed quietly as she felt Monica’s lips on her.

She put the back of her hand on Monica; warm and soft.

Sophie still hated her, but not so much. And even less

when she put her hands on those breasts; Sophie wanted

to taste some of Monica’s nutrituous Italian milk.

Cindy kissed Sophie’s back as she rubbed her,

whispering into her ear “Come on, Sophie… just

relax. It’s not going to hurt…” Cindy’s gentle

kisses landed all over Sophie’s flesh as she touched

her all over, enjoying the model’s lean body and

fondling Sophie’s bottom. It wasn’t as full and round

as Monica’s, but she was willing to bet people still

enjoyed looking at it. (She was right; J-Lo’s Renee

Zellweger kept going back and forth between practising

her Oscar acceptance speech and checking out the

webcast of the three ladies, wishing that those stupid

commentators would just clam up. As was Cindy Inc.’s

Kate Garraway, studying Cindy’s fine form as she stood

behind Sophie and thinking that this beat reality TV

all to hell.)

Sophie found her heart beating faster as Monica kissed

her navel and then began to taste her clean-shaven

cunt, as behind her Cindy slid her body down the young

model’s back and began to nuzzle her buttcrack,

Cindy’s experienced tongue rolling around Sophie’s

back passage and her hands squeezing her petite buns.

Miss Anderton stroked the heads of her two older

lovers as their mouths treated her respective

entrances; Sophie imagined watching Monica and Cindy

crouching, both enticing in their different ways –

Monica earthy and European, Cindy sunshiny and

all-American, both perfect on their own or together.

And they were both on their knees for her…

She felt Cindy’s hands spreading her cheeks apart.

Sophie knew what was coming next, and she finally

smiled widely as she felt Monica’s mouth move off her

snatch, replaced by her long fingers. The fingers

stroked the damp opening for a few moments, then

clenched into a fist. As Cindy positioned her right

hand, Monica closed her arms around Sophie and gently

bent her forward, resting her head between her love

pillows. “Ummmmm… yesss…” Sophie mumbled in

between Monica’s boobs, kissing and nuzzling them as

Monica started to push her clenched hand into the

woman’s snatch.

Sophie began panting into Monica’s cleavage as she

felt Cindy’s fist working into her soft, tight chute,

the American groaning and grunting as she did. Cindy

loved doing this with Rande and with as many of her

colleagues as she could, but each time out it felt

like new; Sophie’s ass was small but lovely, and it

was taking in her arm like it had been designed for

it. Cindy moaned her approval as she pushed it in

another half-inch, hoping that Monica wasn’t rushing

things either…

Monica was loving how Sophie was thrusting against her

as Cindy ground her arm inside, while she herself slid

her hand deeper into Sophie’s snatch up to the wrist,

rotating it slowly and sensually and hearing Sophie’s

“AAAH!!!”s, muffled though they were by her cleavage.

Monica murmured “Yes Sophie… lovely… you’re

wonderful… don’t have to fight…” as she pumped the

woman’s cunt, her mind only on the three of them under

the waterfall.

And certainly not on Philip and Ernest McMurdo,

standing several feet away. The tracking devices had

worked a treat, but the sight of Monica Bellucci’s

bare ass had stopped them short, even allowing for the

circumstances under which they were seeing it. Father

and son stood rooted to the spot, showing no signs of

life – except in their lower regions.

“Oooooh yeah Sophie…” Cindy breathed as she worked

Sophie’s cheeks with her right arm, wishing she could

get at her tingling snatch with her free hand. “This

always gets me happy….”

Sophie mumbled something into Monica’s tits which

might have been “Same here…” and then she cried out

something else as she felt herself starting to burn

up… Cindy and Monica thrust away harder, both of

them also starting to lose control as the model jerked

between them. Philip and his father edged their way

around for a closer look, their cocks dripping come

inside their trousers.

“Too bad you couldn’t get stuff like this on ‘Big

Brother’ last year,” Gabby cracked to the viewers.

“If it had been it might have been the two ugliest

contestants,” Kirsty added. “Look at them… even the

McMurdos want to watch.”

“Wonder who’ll go first?” asked Leeann. “My money’s on

the dad.”

“You can’t bet,” Lisa tut-tutted. “But I’ll go for the

son.”

“Yeah, I just bet you would,” Gabby laughed. “I’ve

heard all about you.”

“Can I help it if I don’t like sleeping with

200-year-old men?”

“The customer is always right… but you’ve got a

point. I mean, this Radio 2 DJ – can I mention his

name here?” asked Kirsty.

“You work for Murdoch, of course you can!” Gabby said.

“Name and shame before Cindy and Company finish…”

“OH FUCK YES YES YES!!!! CINDY!!! MONICA!!!

YESSSSSSSAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!”

“Shit. Too late,” Leeann grumbled as Sophie spasmed

furiously between Cindy and Monica, screaming as she

felt herself give in to the women’s fists, while Terry

Wogan mopped his brow in relief that his secret was

safe for the moment. Sophie jerked around as Cindy

relaxed a little and started to withdraw from the sore

woman, and she collapsed into Monica’s arms, her cunt

now no longer housing Monica’s fist. Cindy rested her

head against Sophie’s back and the three women held

each other, bonded again through the power of sex.

“Better living through pseudo-lesbianism. I approve,”

said Ernest McMurdo, breaking the spell the three were

under. “Now it’s time for the men to have their fun.”

“If you were standing there all this time, you already

had some fun,” Cindy said, breathing heavily and

seeing the stains on their trousers.

“Ejaculation doesn’t count,” Philip said. “Just sex…

I don’t think you’re in any condition to outrun us,

but it was so nice to see three of the finest asses on

the planet that we’ll make a bargain with you.”

“You’ll fuck each other?” asked Sophie.

“Oh, please. We’re neither gay nor incestuous,” Ernest

griped. “The deal is, two of you stay – one of you

goes.”

“How about I stay and they go?” Sophie asked. “One

woman, two men…”

“Sophie, no!” Cindy shouted. “You can’t… I’ll stay.”

“No, Cindy. I’m a private in this battle… you’re the

boss.” Sophie stepped away from the two women and

walked out of the pool to stand by the McMurdos, and

opened up her arms. “Take me.”

Ernest and Philip eyed each other, and shrugged. “The

next time we won’t be so gentlemanly…” And Philip

roughly shoved Sophie onto the ground as Cindy and

Monica, their mood now shattered, made their way to

the edge, where their clothes and a still sleeping

Emmanuelle were.

Five minutes later, renewing their journey, they heard

it. So did Angelina and her brood; the woman came so

loudly that they could all hear it.

Including the black-garbed hunter.

“Eight celebrity whores, sending men to heaven,” Patty

McMurdo said to herself as she trekked through the

greens, eyeing her tracker. “One got porked, and then

there were seven.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Emmanuelle had kept silent while Cindy and Monica

explained why they were now three (and while the other

two hid their amazement at how the most

delicate-looking of the bunch could have slept so

soundly through their rather loud lovemaking). Now, as

the two darker women ended their tale, she looked

bewildered. “And you let her do this?” she asked them,

stamping on some insects scurrying underfoot a bit too

roughly.

“Sophie knew the risk, Em,” Cindy told her. “We all

did. Only one of us stays through to the final round.”

“And you let her go.”

“Would you have volunteered?” Monica asked calmly.

“Yes, of course I would have!”

“Yes, of course you would have,” Monica said in a

different tone of voice.

“Monica, why are you always trying to piss everybody

off?” Cindy asked. “You annoyed Holly, you made Sophie

jealous, and now you’re picking a fight with

Emmanuelle… are you TRYING to weed the others out?”

“I think you are,” Emmanuelle snapped. “You should

turn that energy to getting rid of the other team. Oh

wait, that’s right; me and Cindy had to rescue you

from the others! Unless you’re working for Lopez – ”

Her speech was cut short when Monica slapped

Emmanuelle across the face. “I would NEVER work for

that Hollywood machine! EVER! Take that back right

now, or – ”

“Or what? You’ll turn me over to the McMurdos like you

did with Sophie? Then it would be just you and Cindy –

watch your back, Cindy, this one’ll do anything to

win! ANYTHING!”

Emmanuelle shut up after that, but she left Cindy with

something to think about.

* * * * * * * * * *

Trust was depleting in the other team as well; Asia

Argento was loose, but Team J-Lo was now visibly two

smaller teams, with Asia and Melissa George walking in

the same area as – but a few feet away from – Angelina

Jolie and Sophie Marceau. Nobody said a word; all were

listening out for movements from the jungle, but they

were also all thinking over what had happened. True,

their opponents could be more easily tracked, but so

could they.

Patty McMurdo knew this all too well; like the others,

her tracker had the women colour-coded – blue for

Cindy, red for Lopez, green for the hunters. She was

nearest to the three blue dots, but she was heading

for the red ones. If anyone was going to get any of

Cindy’s remaining ladies, it wouldn’t be her; Patty

just hoped that Sophie hadn’t been the one from J-Lo’s

team who’d been snatched. She loved those sexy French

actresses; less hangups about nudity than Americans,

less relentlessly luvvie than Brits, they got it just

right. And Sophie had made a movie with David Spade,

which made her absolutely perfect (Patty would go to

her grave claiming Spade was the most underrated comic

talent on the planet).

Patty’s pace and her heart started to speed up as she

got nearer. She was heading along an uphill path – she

was going to be on top of them soon enough. Patty kept

her ears and eyes alert, listening for any clues to

where they were.

The redhead stepped out of the greenery as the path

continued, seeing that she was following a cliff edge.

No sign of them… Patty moved over to the edge and

peered over, and sighed in relief. Not only was it not

a very high cliff – it wasn’t even a CLIFF, more of a

slope – but the four women were walking some feet

below. They had found the open area. And the yummy

Marceau was at the back. Patty doled out a dazzling

grin and thumbs-up to the big guy in the sky and

continued to follow.

(“All that time Patty wasted tracking those girls she

could’ve gone after Crawford,” Denise Van Outen

grumbled as she watched in bed.)

Patty let herself drop back a bit so she could watch

Sophie walk; shaking her hair… shaking that ass…

nice. Patty wished that Cindy had snapped her up –

they were both lovely mid-30s brunettes, a great

match. But on the upside, she was all hers…

“Hey, Patty.”

“Shhh,” the girl said into her communicator. “I’m

tracking Sophie Marceau.”

“I know. And I’m tracking you.”

Patty’s face drained as she looked around. “Oh God…

you weren’t joking…” She couldn’t see the intruder

anywhere.

“Haven’t got time to joke,” she said. “Don’t bother

looking around – I didn’t get caught on camera last

time; don’t want to risk it again.” As soon as the

voice stopped, Patty felt a sudden sharp pain in her

leg; she winced and pulled out the dart. “Poison,” the

voice said calmly.

“Why…?” Patty begged as she fumbled for the beacon

and fired it, praying that it wouldn’t be too late.

“You know,” the McMurdo said calmly.

“No I don’t…” Patty whispered as she weakened, her

eyes firmly fixed on Sophie and the others. She had to

concentrate on something to keep her mind off the

growing sickness…

“What’s wrong with her?” Kirsty Gallacher asked as

they watched Patty keel over.

“Probably sunstroke,” Gabby Logan said lightly.

* * * * * * * * * *

Charisma Carpenter totted up the money she was making;

so far it was all looking damned good.

Keira Knightley chuckled as she saw Patty lying there;

she wasn’t really a mean person, but she knew that

Patty loved Cindy’s ladies, and Keira was a J-Lo lady

through and through.

Jennifer Connelly crossed her fingers; things weren’t

looking good for her Cindy Inc. colleagues.

Holly Valance and Sophie Anderton kept their faces

buried in their magazines; they were dull and

out-of-date, but they also kept their attention off

Catherine Zeta-Jones’s insufferable expression.

And Lachlan asked Caroline if she had heard from

Carter lately – “Not a word,” Caroline answered. “The

bastard’s probably sleeping or something.”

“Not for hours,” Lachlan argued. “And he knows he’s

not supposed to go back to the estate. Keep an eye out

for him…”

A loud scream cut through their earpieces –

“OHLORDNO!!! NO! NO!!!!!!!”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Keep an eye out for them,” Cindy told Emmanuelle. “I

don’t think those guys’ll want to stop with just one.”

That message imparted, Cindy stepped aside. Emmanuelle

and Monica had been told she had to relieve herself,

which was sort of true; she had her backpack with her

as she scooted down into a hollow she had noticed when

they travelled along that path a few moments earlier.

The tall brunette crouched down into it, and withdrew

the sheathed knife that was the weapon she’d been

given. Cindy pulled out the knife, and carefully

examined the hollow she was in; picking her spot, she

plunged the blade all the way into the side of the

excavation, the handle quivering a bit.

Cindy lowered her shorts and panties, regretting that

she had to do it this way; but as she edged towards

the handle and positioned her pussy over it, she knew

that it was the only option. It was that or

Emmanuelle, and it couldn’t be Emmanuelle. Not because

she didn’t find her attractive, but because she was

French.

“Sorry, Em,” she said quietly, and pushed forward,

feeling the handle sink into her hot, eager cunt.

Cindy moved herself up and down, letting the handle

tease and excite her, and pulling herself back a

millimeter or so; she was virtually dancing around the

handle as it frigged her. “Ohhhh… aaaahhhh…. ” the

supermodel groaned as she “impaled” herself on it,

jamming herself down further. If only Laetitia hadn’t

gone home the week before this started, then it could

have been her. And if only Laetitia Marie Laure Casta

hadn’t been so fucking fine that Cindy just couldn’t

be with any other Frenchwoman without thinking of

her… it was in fact Laetitia that Cindy thought of

as she felt the handle coring her cunt. For something

like this, her own hands wouldn’t do – it had to be

all outside.

Emmanuelle could see Cindy from the waist up as she

nearly tore off the shrubbery she was grabbing,

thrashing to and fro like the girl at the beginning of

“Brotherhood of the Wolf,” except much less

frightening. “I told you,” she hissed to Monica, who

stood with her back to the scene.

With her eyes closed, Cindy had no idea that her

colleagues could see her slamming away, her mind on

nothing but her own pleasure. The handle was all wet

now with her own secretions as she thrust on it again,

screaming out loud her lover’s name.

Emmanuelle’s blue eyes narrowed as she heard the name

“LAETITIA!!!!” carry through the air…

* * * * * * * * * *

“So, how much are you guys behind now?” Jessica

Simpson asked Pink.

“You know, I was gonna ask you the same question,”

Pink cackled, brandishing her wallet. “I gotta thank

your boss – I’m really cashing in on what’s going on

there. Come over tonight; we’re watching the second

night on my big-ass TV. Down to three, and I bet they

all go tonight.”

“Can’t come; I’m working that night.”

“Can’t face the shame, huh? Don’t blame you.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Slow down, mom!” Lachlan urged, listening in shock.

“I was tracking the ladies… and I saw him,”

Madeleine said through her tears as she leaned against

a tree. “Someone… someone bashed his head in and

left him there.”

“What? WHA.. How the hell did this happen? Was it one

of the women?”

“Who do you think I am, Inspector Fucking Morse?!”

Madeleine yelled. “My son is dead! And I want to find

the girl who killed him, and – ”

“How do you know it was a lady?” Lachlan snapped as he

continued through the greens towards an open space.

There he could call for a chopper to take him to his

mother, and he could have some time to think…

“They’re being hunted by US, you idiot! One of them

might have decided to play for keeps. It’s probably

that Cindy Crawford…”

“Oh come on, Cindy wants to win, but not that bad…”

“How do YOU know?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Philip McMurdo was delighted that the two teams were

coming closer and closer to each other in their

travels; it made it so much easier to go from one to

the other (a deal may have been a deal, but it would

have been too suspicious if no one from J-Lo’s team

was poked out – and he had his eyes on that Angelina

Jolie). He had climbed a tree to about twenty feet off

the ground, knowing that Team Cindy was in this area,

and now he was waiting for them to come a-strolling.

When they did, he’d Tarzan out of the tree and –

Damn. They were getting closer but there were only two

of them; the French cunt must be playing guard or

something. Still, he was deep enough in the branches

so he couldn’t be seen. “Come on, Cindy C…” he

murmured. “Just a little closer…”

Emmanuelle was lagging behind Cindy and Monica, and

she was indeed on the look out for something.

Sophie Marceau was just slightly AHEAD of Emmanuelle,

and she was on the look out for Cindy…

* * * * * * * * *

“That’s the trouble with this thing when it’s nothing

but stalking,” Lisa complained. “You just have to sit

around and wait for something to happen.”

“Well, might as well use the time to read some emails

from people watching,” Gabby suggested. “How about

this one, from ‘George’: ‘Hi, I’m really enjoying

watching all the sexy ladies in the jungle and in the

commentary box. How come Laura won’t do the things you

girls will?’ LAURA? Hmmmmm… Anyway, thanks for

writing George, and we’ll keep it up for you and your

administration.”

“Gab! You know it’s not that George,” Kirsty

tut-tutted.

“Yeah, I know,” Gabby laughed, as the President hung

up his phone and whooped at how Team J-Lo was doing.

“I’m just joking…”

“This one’s from a British kid called David,” Leeann

said. “He says ‘I love Kirsty Gallacher and Gabby

Logan; every time I see them I have to go and have a

wank because they’re so sexy. I wish Gabby and Kirsty

could play with each other’s boobs in between shots of

the jungle…'” she cracked up. “Kids! Does your dad

know you’re watching?”

“I know you’re in Europe, but…” Gabby agreed.

“Oh, what the hell,” Kirsty sighed, and started to

open her shirt. “It’ll pass the time, and get more

viewers.”

“But – ”

“Why are you so surprised? I work for Sky One, you

know…” And Kirsty flung her shirt aside.

“Bring the camera closer, no need to be shy,” Lisa

laughed as the audience got a good look at Kirsty’s

treasured chest. “And isn’t this more fun than the

Superbowl?”

“Or the FA Cup?” Leeann added.

“We’ll let you get away with that one,” Gabby replied,

her own top off and her boobs on view for all to see.

(kd lang, a longtime Cindy Inc. supporter, was

disappointed that they didn’t take their pants off as

well.) “Go on, touch them…” Kirsty was reaching out

when the presenter of “The Premiership” added “Not

with your hands.”

Kirsty happily hefted her breasts and played with them

for the camera, doing a great parody of a Page 3

stunner. “And not a drop of silicone in sight, eat

your heart out Jordan!”

“Isn’t she calling herself by her real name now?”

Gabby asked as she felt the black-haired lady pressing

the jugs against her own.

“She’ll always be Jordan to me,” Kirsty replied,

rubbing her breasts up and down along Gabby’s pair.

“And I wouldn’t let a Pop Idol into me for love nor

money.” Kirsty rubbed her nipples directly onto

Gabby’s, watching as they stood up, long and hard.

Then she lightly kissed each one, enjoying flicking it

with her tongue.

The Americans kept their mouth shut about Miss

Gallacher’s Pop Idol crack, knowing about Kirsty’s

evening with Kelly Clarkson when the latter was in the

UK for “Miss Independent” and her week in the US

disproving the rumours about Ryan Seacrest preferring

men. Instead they kept one eye each on Gabby stroking

Kirsty’s boobs and opening her mouth to suckle, and

the other eye(s) on the monitors in case something was

about to happen.

“Apologies for not doing our job,” Leeann told the

audience, “but let’s face it, sometimes actions speak

louder than words.” Gabby was “talking” a language

Kirsty had been speaking for years, as she drew the

presenter’s nipple into her hungry mouth and sucked

hard. Gabby squeezed Kirsty’s boobs, eager to get

something out, while her friend fondled the blonde’s

equally nice set. Why hadn’t they worked together even

once on Sky Sports? Definitely a trick missed there.

Kirsty’s hand traced its way absentmindedly down

Gabby’s body towards her crotch, until it was slapped

away.

“Tits only, Kirst,” the blonde murmured, rubbing her

head all over her friend’s cleavage. Kirsty

semi-reluctantly returned her fingers to Gabby’s tits,

as she felt suction increase and heard a “Mmmmmmmm…”

followed by a licking sensation. Gabby had gotten some

droplets of Kirsty’s breast milk out, and she

increased her sucking motion. Talk about doing a body

good; Kirsty dived in between Gabby’s breasts as she

continued to drip the milk, and Miss Logan let it seep

onto her fingers so she could lick it off. Almost as

nice as how mother used to make it.

Nuzzling Gabby’s tits, Kirsty let her hands wander

down again to rest on her peachy little behind. This

time she DIDN’T slap them away…

* * * * * * * * * *

Emmanuelle’s blue eyes covered every inch of the

jungle; she knew it wouldn’t be long before someone

tried something. And she wanted to have a good view of

when it happened; either Cindy or Monica would be fine

with her.

Sophie had seen Emmanuelle out of the corner of her

eye and taken cover before she could be seen. Her

route had taken her several feet ahead of the Yank and

the dago; the lovely brunette weighed each option.

Monica was closer, but Cindy was slimmer and easier to

take down. Plus it never hurt with the French press to

take out an American.

And they were just about to be next to the tree;

Philip tensed himself for the jump. Land, roll, and

grab one of them – either one would be fine with him.

(“See how Emmanuelle’s just keeping behind like that?”

Leeann told Lisa as the Brits continued their

groaning. “What’s she up to?”)

Then Sophie made her move, darting out of her hiding

place towards a still unsuspecting Cindy – and as

Emmanuelle hesitated for a moment before she made her

move.

Towards Sophie.

“I’m sorry, Cindy!!!” she yelled as she ran into

Sophie and brought her down. Sophie’s breath rushed

out in surprise as she hit the grass, and Emmanuelle

elbowed her in the mouth. She was getting really good

at this; maybe she should look out for an action

movie. The next Bond film maybe… Sophie had already

been in a Bond movie, and she lashed back at

Emmanuelle, enraged as she watched her targets run for

it. They were going to get away AGAIN…

“What are you, their guardian angel?!” Sophie snapped

as she kicked out at Emmanuelle, who was merrily

tearing her fellow thespian’s clothes off.

“Look at it this way,” Emmanuelle laughed. “At least

we’re giving hope to all the older women out there…”

This didn’t give Sophie much consolation as she felt

the blonde’s fingers between her thighs. Sophie

clamped them shut before she could go any further;

she’d be damned if she made it easy for her colleague.

But Emmanuelle prised her legs apart, beaming at the

resulting spread shot, and at how nice Sophie looked

all naked and writhing. “Is it true that you wouldn’t

come over and do a customer fantasy with Jennifer

Garner as the two Elektras?” she asked. “She was

really up for it, I heard. And I thought it was

American women who were all prudish…”

“Fuck you!” Sophie snarled, trying to escape

Emmanuelle’s grips.

“No. Fuck YOU,” Emmanuelle smiled, and felt Philip’s

hands tearing off her pants. McMurdo men knew a good

opportunity when they saw it; he couldn’t get Cindy or

Monica, but he’d take what he could get. And what he

could get in this case was… she heard his yell of

delight as he slammed his cock into her, and almost

screamed as he gyrated against her upraised butt.

Philip was not known for taking his time with women,

and his cock moved in and out of her as if he was in a

hurry to catch a train.

Sophie was begging Emmanuelle in French to let her go,

but with the blonde’s fingers moving over her jugs and

her mouth moving over Sophie’s snatch, there was

really nothing she could do except lie back and enjoy

it. Sophie Marceau lay back, but she sure didn’t enjoy

it… except for the realisation that at least she was

taking Emmanuelle Beart with her.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Charisma Carpenter bid the customer goodbye and rested

back on her bed, pleased at how things were going. Her

body was sore and the nipple clamps were hurting, but

her and her syndicate were sure to be several thousand

dollars up by the end. And the news from an excited

Stacy Keibler that she had called it correctly – that

Emmanuelle Beart had been taken out by Sophie Marceau

– had only added to her good fortune. On top of that,

Charisma loved the feel of a good cock up her ass, and

that last customer… the well-formed brunette let her

mind drift back to that memory. Feeling that slab

pounding inside her asshole while he kept tugging on

the straps – this was living! It couldn’t get any

better than this, she thought as she heard a tapping

on her door.

“Here already?” she laughed, as she got up to welcome

her next customer. “No rest for the horny…” Charisma

snapped on her smile as she flung open the door – and

snapped it off almost at once on seeing who was there.

“So,” Jennifer Lopez said casually, “you wanna tell me

why you’ve been betting against your own team?”

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