Cindy Inc.: Last Woman Standing, Part 3

The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford –

supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The

way the characters behave is not how they would in

real life (though after “Evolution” and “The Ladies

Man” it’s not so hard to visualise Julianne Moore

doing the Dance of Joy), and any complaints or

whatever to go to the message boards or to (Kirsty’s fellow Sky Sports

presenter Helen Chamberlain recently took off all her

clothes for the UK version of “Penthouse” – it can

only be a matter of time before someone requests a

story about her. You just wait and

Previously on “Cindy Inc.”: In the race to see who

gets to be the mother of Lachlan McMurdo’s children,

the field has narrowed down to Cindy Crawford, Monica

Bellucci, Angelina Jolie, Asia Argento and Melissa

George, all of whom have been bugged by Karen the maid

as part of an aim to throw the contest. But two of the

McMurdos (Carter and Patty) are also no longer in the

running to track them down, and on the home front head

bookie Charisma Carpenter has just been unmasked as

betting on Cindy Inc. – even though she works for

Jennifer Lopez. Now read on…

* * * * * * * * * *

The pilot was glad the journey back to the estate

wasn’t a long one; Emmanuelle Beart and Sophie Marceau

had been squabbling all the damn time since they got

on board. Listening to two beautiful French women

telling each other to go fuck themselves in their

native language, though musical in a sense, was

irritating in most others. But soon they would be out

of the chopper and be someone else’s problem.

Sure enough, as soon as it landed the two women got

out, hurling invective at each other, Emmanuelle

telling Sophie that her father must have been terrible

in bed the night she was conceived, and Sophie

replying that SHE would probably know what her father

was like in bed…

“YOU!” Emmanuelle snarled in English, and leapt on

Sophie again.

“Send the men out to get them,” the keeper of the

estate said, watching the two women fight. “In fifteen


* * * * * * * * * *

“I honestly thought you wouldn’t find out!” Charisma

pleaded in Jennifer Lopez’s office. The tall

well-build moled brunette who worked for Lopez had

held out for all of fourteen seconds before listing

all the women working for her who were in on it. And

all the money they’d won and lost.

“And where’d you get that idea, missy? I see all, and

I know all…”

Charisma fiddled with her hair nervously. She was

rolling in the green now, even though there were still

more J-Lo’s in the field of play than Cindy Inc’s.

“So… I suppose I’m going to be fired?”

“Hell, no. You’ve got the Buffy freaks lining up for

your snatch for miles – I’m not letting you go just

because you’re making a little money on the side for


The relief that she’d be having her legs up in the air

in Bel Air for the foreseeable future vanished when

Charisma realised what the last word of the sentence

had been. “…US?”

“Yeah,” Lopez grinned. “As of now, I get 75% of what

you’re making in these bets. Of what ALL the ladies

are making. And you get to tell them.”

Charisma shed a mental tear as she waved

three-quarters of her stash bye bye.

* * * * * * * * * *

If this was an episode of “24” that was coming out of

a commercial break, one corner would show Cindy

Crawford and Monica Bellucci stopping and having

something to eat, another would show Caroline McMurdo

searching through the jungle, a third would have the

five ladies already captured glaring heavily at each

other before joining the commentators one at a time,

and a fourth would have a tent erected elsewhere in

the jungle. And it would be the tent that would fill

the screen in the next cut.

The tent had been set up by Angelina Jolie with help

from Asia Argento, who had been untied now the truth

about what had happened had set them all on something

like a level playing field. Melissa George, having

drawn the short straw, had gone off fishing for their

supper that second night (“Stop moaning, you’re

Australian – you’re used to water,” Asia snapped), and

she still hadn’t come back yet. Which was good news

for Karen, lying in wait for her opportunity.

Karen crept towards the tent, listening through the

crickets for any human sounds. Nothing… only

snoring. Karen shook her head – Angelina Jolie

snored?! Ah well, nobody was perfect; as her dad said,

even Claudia Cardinale (whoever SHE was) probably let

off a few good ones in bed. Karen moved towards the

entrance, and slipped inside like a master thief,

knowing exactly where the goodies were. And there they

were, buried under the blankets, snoring heavily.

The young woman scanned the rising and falling form.

She was all alone, Karen was eager, and it would only

be for a few moments… and it wasn’t like it was the

first time she had ever done something like this.

Karen quickly doffed her clothes, glad she had worn

only the minimum of stuff (it wouldn’t take long for

her to make a getaway) and carefully lifted up the

blankets to move in next to the dozing woman. Safe in

bed, she looked at the woman’s form. Though there was

hardly any light, there was enough to make out that

she was in pyjamas – spoilsport; Miss Vinton had been

revved up for the sight of Angelina’s bare bottom all

ready for a bit of light paddling – but when Karen

touched her, it didn’t matter. She was wonderful to

stroke even with clothes in the way; Karen was careful

to fondle her lightly, because she didn’t want the

woman to wake up until it was too late to stop… if


Resting her head between the woman’s shoulders, Karen

moved her hands around the front, slipping them

underneath the top, one hand moving up to the woman’s

breasts and the other going below. “I love you, baby,”

the girl whispered, and kissed her back. “Bet you’d

love me too if you knew me…” Karen kissed her again

as she thrust her hand into her lover’s pussy; she was

startled and a bit let down to find that it was shaved

completely clean after last time, but then she thought

that it meant less obstacles to what was there…

Karen’s fingers began to rub Angelina’s pussy lightly,

as her other hand began to fondle the nice if not

massive boobs. Mmmmm…

“Mmmmm… Jenny… ” she murmured in her sleep, her

own hand fluttering down to between Karen’s legs.

Karen rolled the sleeping lady’s nipples between her

fingers, but it was feeling the lady’s hand stroking

her cunt that caused the penny to drop. “Feels nice,

Jenny… mmmmmm yesssss… beautiful…. perfect…”

The English girl was snapped from her reverie as she

heard Melissa George dreaming about making love to her

“Alias” co-star and fellow J-Lo’s employee. And Karen

was fucking her instead of Angelina…!

While feeling Melissa’s fingers sticking into her

snatch, the English girl peered closer at the

Australian’s hair; through the night, she could see a

few strands of her tresses. Definitely blonde… Karen

kicked herself for having been so stupid. She had been

so eager to get more of that Jolie loving… and now

Melissa was turning over…

Karen kissed Melissa, throwing caution to the winds. A

sexy little miss was a sexy little miss anyway… and

it got cold at night around these parts…

“YOU!” Angel from “Home and Away” ejaculated on seeing

who was in bed with her.

“I was listening in – I thought you were fishing – ”

“I got lucky and got back early, and I got the tent as

a reward,” Melissa explained. “A good catch too…

don’t change the subject. Is this why you put the bugs

on us?! So you could cheat in this thing?”

“Well…” Karen fumbled to explain the thing to her.

“That’s partly it…”

“Partly it?” Melissa asked, dying to kick the girl in

the stomach and throw her out of the tent. “What’s the

rest of it?”

“You let me fuck you out and I’ll tell you,” Karen

said eagerly.

“You must be joking.”

“You’re going to go out anyway… might as well be


Melissa looked at the smiling, eager young girl, and

felt how she was touching her chest; she didn’t want

to go out of the contest at all. But it was nice and

comfy in here, and Karen was a nice girl… and it

wasn’t like she was being faced by any of those

dreadful McMurdos. “Make it quick,” the actress

conceded, and regretted saying it as soon as Karen

landed on her, rubbing her all over and kissing her as

if she was on a commission basis. Karen thrust her

tongue down Melissa’s throat, mounting her hungrily

and eagerly searching for her cunt.

“Not… that quick,” she breathed, stroking the girl’s

trim body. “I want to have some fun as well… do you

mind if I shut my eyes and pretend you’re Michael?”

“Whatever turns you on; it’s cool,” Karen replied, not

having a clue who this Michael was as she nipped

Melissa’s tits; she did know who Jennifer was, but why

the blonde wanted her to pretend to be someone with a

prick she didn’t know. Why bother faking it now? Karen

threw it out of her mind, fondling Melissa’s muff as

she kissed the blonde, and enjoying how Melissa was

pinching her as she lay on top, happily slapping the

girl’s bum. Not a trace of fat anywhere on her; the

McMurdos kept her working hard, she could tell. Karen

pressed her thumbs carefully into Melissa, pressing

down on her clit as if she was playing tiddlywinks,

and flicked it to and fro.

“OoooohhhhhH!!!!” breathed Melissa, rocking inside the

bed as Karen’s hands moved around her body, which was

turning ever pinker as she warmed up.

“Nice?” Karen laughed. “Still want me to think I’m a


Melissa, writhing with joy, didn’t care any more; she

kissed Karen hard on the lips and rubbed her breasts

against Karen’s smaller ones. “You know any guys who

can do this?”

“You changed your mind fast, didn’t you?” the girl

cracked, not that she cared either; Melissa’s jugs

were nice feeling against her own. And her fine

Australian ass felt nice and firm on her hands; Karen

rubbed it appreciatively, kissing the woman’s neck and

shoulders as Melissa started to nuzzle down Karen’s

front. She had only dreamed of eating Jennifer

Garner’s cunt, but now she was about to have the real

thing. And it looked like something tasty as well…

Melissa thrust her tongue into Karen’s warm, tight

slot, and it was the girl’s turn to cry out as she

began to explore deep inside. She swore she’d make her

forget that mad tattooed Yank if her life depended on

it, but Melissa also knew that getting thrown out of

the contest would be worth it for this hot little


Karen, most of her mind on Melissa George’s mouth,

dragged the strap of Melissa’s pack towards her.

Fighting the feelings and the heat she was feeling,

she opened it with the hand she wasn’t using to rub

herself, and saw the handle of the beacon pistol.

Melissa’s hands thrashed up and landed squarely on

Karen’s pert tits, adding to the delight on the girl’s

face as she pulled out the pistol and aimed it at the

roof of the tent.

The sky erupted with the light of the beacon as

Melissa’s mouth dampened with the taste of Karen, but

she didn’t care any more…

* * * * * * * * * *

“So how’s it shaping up?” Julianne Moore asked her

assistant as she left the set.

“How’s what shaping up?” Christina Rice replied,

pretending she didn’t know.

“The whole McMurdo thing!” Julianne said excitedly as

she headed to her car. “I asked you to keep me posted;

I don’t want to have to meet a whole load of bad news

down at Cindy’s place tonight. It gets in the way of

my business. And I LOVE my tips.”

“Oh… sorry, I forgot.” Seeing her boss’s face

falling, Christina threw the gag aside. “Just kidding;

Melissa George’s out. Now it’s down to two apiece.”

“Whoo-hooo!” Julianne crowed, and clapped her hands on

her assistant’s arms. “Now we so happy, we do the

dance of joy!”

Christina wasn’t sure if she was more surprised over

the fact that this acclaimed actress was a closet

“Perfect Strangers” fan or that she herself joined in

the Mypos dance right there in front of onlookers.

Right down to her leaping into Julianne’s outstretched


* * * * * * * * * *

“Wow, that’s going to be a problem if it rains!”

Kirsty Gallacher chortled, highfiving Lisa Dergan as

they checked out the replay of the flare shooting

through the top of the tent.

Catherine Zeta Jones was less inclined to go into her

song-and-dance act; Kirsty and Lisa had rerun the tape

at least four times for their (and Holly Valance’s and

Sophie Anderton’s) amusement, and Cathy had been

sulking for hours. “Well, it’s evenly matched now;

that dumb American hasn’t got the edge yet,” she

reminded them.

“Yes, Angelina still hasn’t got the edge yet,” Lisa

laughed. “Still, I’m sure Leeann and Gabby’ll try and

give you a shoulder to cry on when they come back from

wherever they are.”

“Probably crying right now,” Kirsty added. “Melissa’ll

be arriving here shortly, but in the meantime the

other eliminated women here in the studio’ll be

providing some more entertainment between the lulls.”

“I’m not going to be singing if any of the Lopez

wankers are going to be here,” Holly stated.

“You singing? She said they’d be providing

ENTERTAINMENT!” Sophie Marceau countered.

“That’s more than you did with your last few movies –

‘Belphegor’? Belphe-bore, more like,” Emmanuelle


“If you want to fight, do it later,” Kirsty said.

“Maestro, music please… ladies, it’s getting hot in

here. So take off all your clothes…”

The tune that came from started to fill the air, as

the women sat there reluctantly.

“There’s half-a-million in it for each of you,” Lisa


Catherine was up there almost as soon as the blonde

had finished speaking, and the others weren’t far

behind. She hopped around the floor dancing in a

manner not so much like “Chicago” as like Christina

Aguilera, tugging at her clothes as she moved. Holly

Valance sniggered as she watched. “Step aside,

grandma, this is how it’s done,” she said, and elbowed

Catherine aside, moving sinously for the benefit of

the cameras. Holly was used to strolling around in

front of people with hardly anything on, so peeling

her clothes off was second nature for the girl. Soon

she had her tender young breasts out for the viewing

pleasure of the world, jiggling them as she started to

undo her bikini underwear, winking as she twisted.

The view Holly was giving was suddenly blocked out by

Catherine Zeta Jones’s waving backside. Dancing around

like crazy, Catherine worked up a sweat as she kept

Holly from getting in front of the cameras at every

turn, laughing mockingly. “Experience beats age every

time, girlie!” she sneered, twirling to give the world

a view from every angle.

“If I want to see a Welsh backside I’ll tune in to a

rugby match,” Sophie sniffed. “Stand aside.” And she

and Emmanuelle started a slow striptease, each one

removing an item of clothing from the other, and

lightly slapping each other as they did.

“English-French cooperation. Not something you see

every day.”

“Here’s something else you won’t see every day,”

Leeann announced. “Sophie Marceau getting it from a

Cindy Inc. lady.”

“Dream on,” Lisa told her fellow American. “I’m not

putting my tongue up any J-Lo snatch.”

“Oh, come on,” Sophie M cooed as she patted Lisa’s

blonde head, thrilled more at her getting to know the

enemy than by who it was. “I’ll just lie here and take

it like a woman.” She made little kissing noises at

Lisa and pinched her softly.

“Listen,” Lisa told the Frenchwoman, “if I’m doing

you, we’re all doing you…”

“Oooooh, all girl gang-bang!” squealed Gabby. “This

should make it up to the viewers at home… hey, Mr.

Cameraman, you can’t join in!” A muffled “Fuck it” was

heard as Sophie M beckoned that the commentators come

closer; Gabby, Leeann, Lisa and Kirsty gathered around

the French brunette as if they were there to receive

the wisdom of the ages, and Sophie M began to remove

her clothes, helped by the others. For someone who

didn’t sound enthusiastic before, Lisa certainly

looked eager in her bid to tear the woman’s top off.

But no more eager than Holly and Catherine were to get

each other off the screen.

“If any of the staff are watching, feel free to join

in…” Emmanuelle called.

“Shouldn’t they be seeing what’s happening in the

jungle?” Holly gasped, as Catherine rested her head

between Miss Valance’s bronzed tits.

“Oh, Melissa’ll be back here in a few minutes,” Leeann

said, massaging Sophie Marceau’s butt and flinging a

glimpse at the screens. “And it doesn’t look like

Cindy’s doing anything – HEY, THAT’S MINE, COW!” she

snapped at Kirsty, as she licked her lips and sank her

teeth into Sophie M’s lovely left buttock. Leeann,

furious that Kirsty had gotten there first, thrust a

middle finger into her snatch and made it good and

damp before resting it on Sophie M’s crack. Sophie M

was too busy kissing Lisa and playing with the

blonde’s own behind to notice Leeann beginning to slip

the moistened finger into her butthole, while Kirsty

continued kissing and licking each mound.

Gabby Logan, flat on the ground by Sophie M, was glad

that she was on her side; it made it easier to get her

hands on that hairy muff she had. As Lisa kissed

Sophie M harder, she traced a path down the older

woman’s front as Gabby moved down; Lisa’s hand and

Gabby’s mouth got there at the same time, and Gabby

slapped her hand away. “Wait your turn,” she laughed,

and began to run her tongue along Sophie M’s snatch.

She was hairy and plump down there; just the way Gabby

liked it. It made a change for her to go down on a

goodlooking French person for a change after all the

Sky Sports uglies she had to work on back home; thank

goodness Helen Chamberlain never slept with women.

Gabby didn’t rush herself with Sophie M’s pussy; she

teased her with her tongue a little, stopped for a

moment to make her want some more, and then gradually

gave her more, and more, and more. Just as Lisa

Dergan, her mouth and hands loving Sophie M’s tits,

wanted more of Sophie’s fingers in her crotch and ass.

The cameras kept panning back and forth among each set

up, unable to choose who to focus on; they settled for

a little while on Sophie Anderton and Emmanuelle.

Sophie, by now stripped bare, was rubbing Emmanuelle

with her own brassiere; she had unclipped it, but

rather than pull it all the way off she was pulling it

along her back, playing a little game of tug of war

with herself. Emmanuelle swayed along, la-la-ing to

herself as she waited for Sophie to fling it aside.

“We’re not going to fuck each other, are we? That

would be so selfish,” she pouted. “Don’t think I don’t

know what you’re doing there, Jones.”

Catherine Zeta Jones, her differences with Holly put

aside, had her tongue too far down Holly’s throat and

her fingers too far inside the girl’s cunt for her to

answer. The faux-Aussie (Holly was from New Zealand)

was mentally begging Catherine to eat her out, but in

the meantime she was responding eagerly to how this

lady was treating her; Holly grabbed Catherine’s

thighs and fondled them happily, moving her body in

response to Catherine’s frigging and her lips landing

all over her face. Catherine loved feeling the boobs

of girls who hadn’t given birth yet, even if they did

work for Cindy Crawford. “Mike jerks off to your

pictures,” she whispered to the girl when she stopped

kissing her for a moment.

“No need to tell me what I want to hear,” Holly

smiled. “Just go down there and eat me out.”

“You first,” Catherine parried, and forced Holly’s

head between her thighs. “See if you’re better at that

than making records.”

Holly was torn between pointing out that she was the

one who’d had hit singles and between putting her

tongue inside Cathy. She made the right choice, and

even though this was a J-Lo lady, Holly was determined

to do her best. Catherine was soon singing a different

tune as Holly lived up to her “Neighbours” nickname,

flicking around in Catherine’s area as if she had been

giving head since she was 16 (which she had). Holly

accompanied her tonguework with slow, circular

caresses on Catherine’s buttcheeks, spreading them

apart and wishing she could crane her head around to

take a look, but having to settle for rubbing her

fingers on Catherine’s puckery anus. Holly gave CZJ’s

clit another flick as she felt a tug on her hair; “My

turn,” Miss Jones told the girl, eager for her to go

on but also eager to taste Holly for herself…

Leeann and Kirsty’s butt worship had both women lost

in their own worlds; Kirsty wanted to take another

bite, but contented herself with moving her pussy over

each cheek, tingling when she felt the skin of Miss

Marceau’s behind touching her cunt lips. Kirsty wished

that she could grow a cock so she could really give it

to her; but Leeann had gotten there first, her fingers

going in and out of Sophie M’s anus. Leeann wished she

could have had a finger inside her crotch as well, but

trust someone from Lopez to try and spoil it… oh,

screw it. The tanned brunette, still sliding her

finger inside Sophie’s butt, stretched herself out and

moved her head between the Frenchwoman’s legs, seeing

Gabby’s mouth lapping away happily in the snatch.

Leeann, still rhythmically poking the butt, began to

put her tongue inside what parts of Sophie M’s cunt

she could. The two women’s tongues, hitting both

extremes, fired up Sophie M as she fucked Lisa.

Who was now finding what it was like to suckle

Catherine Zeta Jones, with one of her boobs stuffed

into her ravenous mouth and Holly Valance sitting on

her face, thrusting her buttocks as she enjoyed

Catherine’s munching. Mmmmmmmm… ooooohhhh… Lisa

was hungry for CZJ’s goodness, especially with Sophie

M pushing her away – not that Lisa minded, because she

knew it was so Sophie M could get her lips on some of

that California goodness between her legs. Lisa felt

Catherine’s nipples on her tongue, and the woman held

them close as if they were her baby daughters. Lisa

was facing the doors, so she could see the wave of

staff burst in, their clothes off and their faces


She let go of Catherine and devoted herself to how

Sophie Marceau’s mouth was making her cunt feel,

keeping an eye on the first man to reach Holly and

thrust his meat into her mouth, making sure that she

was taken care of at both ends. Lisa wanted a man like

that as well, and she wanted some inches in her mouth

now; even Emmanuelle and the other Sophie were with

guys now. Turning away and moaning with heat as she

watched Sophie M underneath the commentators, she

didn’t realise there was a large man striding towards

her, stroking his tube and eyeing her. Until he

grabbed her head and pushed her mouth open.

Lisa Dergan soon got what she wished for, and more…

* * * * * * * * * *

“That stupid, stupid twat,” Asia Argento grumbled at

around the same time Melissa George arrived at the

estate. Asia was pissed about the last turn of events.

And about having run out of cigarettes.

“I thought you were on Melissa’s side,” Angelina Jolie


“I was talking about that spotty English twit. I don’t

mind her getting rid of Melissa, but did she have to

ruin the damn tent? When I get back to base – ”

“Keep it down,” Angelina snapped, “or it’ll be sooner

than you think.”

Asia kept it down.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Picky, picky,” Monica Bellucci chastised, looking at

her watch. “We could have been making tracks by now.”

“It’s night,” Cindy Crawford pointed out after

swallowing the last of her dinner. “And I’m not crazy

about this Marmite stuff, that’s why I took so long.”

“Holly calls it Vegemite.”

“I call it the devil’s shit.”

“I have to agree,” Monica said ruefully, as the two

women picked up their packs and started to move. “I

don’t know why we agreed to take some of it.”

Caroline McMurdo had had some Vegemite while she had

been in Melbourne on business a year ago; her feelings

on it were entirely different to those of the two

dark-haired beauties. Nighttime made following the two

harder, but Caroline was convinced that she was on the

right track. Cindy and her dwindling team (i.e.

Monica) had been careful to hide as many traces as

they could, but they had still left enough bits for

Caroline to get an idea of their direction. And there

was something up ahead… the McMurdo increased her

pace slightly. She didn’t want to give herself away to

her quarry, not at this time of night…

Caroline grabbed whoever it was just as it was about

to slip into the leaves. The quarry whirled and

brought up his arm…


“Dammit!!!” her brother snapped as she stepped back.

“Thanks for breaking my concentration… if Crawford’s

near she’s probably heard us.”

“You’re tracking her?” Caroline asked.

“No, I’m chasing the Tooth Fairy. Of course I’m going

after them…”

“Well, I was following a different path… listen, I

think one of the other team is down there. I saw a

couple of things they left on the way…”

“So why didn’t you go after them?”

“Because there’s more of them, you idiot! Cindy and

that Italian with the big tits are easy targets…”

“Wimp,” Lachlan muttered. And his ego rising to the

occasion, he set off down the way Caroline had

indicated, without even bothering to say thanks,

goodbye or anything on those lines.

Though the McMurdos had reduced the wild animal

population of the island’s jungle to zero, both for

the sake of contestants and themselves – they didn’t

want to risk any of the guests being eaten before they

could be caught, and if any McMurdos wanted to do any

animal hunting they had places all over the world for

that kind of thing – Lachlan still kept alert as he

headed downhill. If Caroline was right and they WERE

around, he didn’t want any nasty surprises.

His torch pointing out the way and seeking out any

signs, Lachlan continued. This had been going on

longer than he had wanted; Lachlan almost regretted

not simply adopting from a good family, or going the

frozen-dad route. No McMurdo went for the easy way

out; he had to make it “interesting,” for which read

“difficult.” The only bright spot was that it would

soon be over; by this time tomorrow they would all be

gone except one. They HAD to be all done by then. They

had to –

At that moment Lachlan’s right foot broke through the

ground and he pitched forward, losing the grip on his

torch. The eldest McMurdo gripped the edge of the hole

he had stumbled into, and with shallow breaths pulled

himself back out, glad that his torch had landed on

the edge. Shaken, he aimed the torch’s beam around the

pit; his relief that it wasn’t too wide or deep ended

on seeing what was at the bottom. Lachlan wouldn’t

have fallen far (just about ten or fifteen feet), but

it would have been enough for the layer of nails,

broken glass and wooden spikes to do what had been


“Fuck me…” Lachlan breathed. Neither Cindy’s team

nor J-Lo’s could have set this up. That meant it

couldn’t have been any of the celebs who got Carter.

And it had been Caroline who sent him down there…

suddenly blood became a lot thinner than water.

* * * * * * * * * *

Cindy rolled out their sleeping bags, wishing she

could just get into it and go to sleep. But Monica’s

fingers were twirling the coin of fate; the one that

would decide who’d get three hours of sleep at once,

and who’d have to wait another three hours. Cindy

hated doing this – not so much the decision as how it

was made. Last night they had done it by the old

reliable coin toss, and she’d lost. The first time

Monica had been at home base the two had tossed to see

who’d buy the drinks, and Cindy had lost. Every single

time she called it with this woman, she lost. Her luck

had to change sometime… maybe tonight?

“Call it,” Monica said.

“Put the coin away… how about we do something else



“Ah… well, it’s just you and me out here, and…

it’ll be pretty lonely apart from your snoring…”

“I do not snore!” Monica snapped, before calming down.

“You’re suggesting that the two of us…”

“Not all the way,” Cindy explained. She wriggled her

fingers. “Whoever comes first has to stay awake.”

(“YES!” Louise Redknapp yelled in bed with Jamie. “A

jackoff contest!”)

“I must warn you,” Monica said as she sat down on the

bed and faced her boss, “I’ve never lost yet. I did

come close earlier this year with Scarlett

Johansson… I think she was driven by her

disappointment about not being up for an Oscar.”

“But the BAFTA made up for it,” Cindy said with a

straight face, before both she and Monica supplied the

“Yeah, RIGHT!” punchline and laughed, as they placed

their hands on each other’s thighs and began to stroke

them. Monica’s hands described circles as they moved

up Cindy’s thighs towards her denim-covered snatch;

Cindy preferred long, smooth caresses along the

Italian’s legs. The supermodel’s pussy was more

trimmed than Monica’s, and the American had her eyes

fixed on her friend’s panties, with some tantalizing

glimpses of pubic hair. Nothing like a jungle on view

in the jungle; Cindy slowly snaked her fingers

underneath the band of Monica’s underwear and moved

the digits through the cuntbush, tingling as the

fingertips found Miss Bellucci’s waiting snatch.

Monica lowered the zip of Cindy’s shorts, looking with

delight at the neatly turned muff inside. She stroked

Cindy’s pouting box lightly before rolling her lover’s

button between thumb and forefinger with a little

sigh, and pulled the pussy lips apart as she started

to enter. Cindy, for her part, hadn’t pulled off

Monica’s undies, doing all her business unseen by

either; she enjoyed seeing Monica’s eyes close

slightly as she pressed her fingers inside her hot

slot. Cindy began to go deeper inside, skittering her

fingers inside Monica’s muff. It was tight in there,

and already getting wet; she had tasted heavenly on

the plane, and she almost wanted to have another go…

“I heard you earlier,” Monica murmured as she rested

the left hand between Cindy’s superb thighs, and the

right directly on her cunt. “It’s not as much fun with

an object, is it?” And she started to slip her

fingertips into Cindy’s pussy, wriggling them as she

pushed inside, and breathing harder as Cindy’s own

fingers slipped in and out of her own cunt. But

Monica’s hand was going further than either of

Cindy’s; the supermodel felt all of Monica’s fingers

deep inside her, searching and wiggling around and

sending heat into herself with each touch of a tip.

Monica’s hand twisted and turned inside Cindy’s cunt

like she was opening a safe; Cindy’s fingers played

with Monica like an expert, but she was feeling the

energy sparking inside her. And the calm, kind

expression on Monica’s face as she looked directly at

her wasn’t helping Cindy’s case either…

Cindy could feel her cunt get more and more damp on

Monica’s hand; she tried to keep in control, but it

was no good… she was starting to pant as Monica’s

hand thrust back and forth. This wasn’t masturbation;

this was fisting… the Italian slut was cheating…

but did she care?

Feeling herself about to explode, Cindy tore open

Monica’s panties and thrust herself forward and

downwards, screaming into her lover’s cunt as she

began to feast.

* * * * * * * * * *

One hour later, the jungle was being underscored by

Monica Bellucci’s snores. “Should have brought a tape

recorder,” Cindy said to herelf as she sat up. peering

through what jungle she could make out and listening

out for something apart from the Italian sexpot’s


She wished she could shut her eyes just for a little

bit… no. No no no no no. She’d get to shut her eyes

two hours later; in the meantime, all she had to do

was keep that torch going, moving it along in case one

of them was making a midnight visit. She’d have tried

the same thing if she knew where they were… Cindy’s

torch beam picked out something in the grass. It

shouldn’t have been there, but it was. The supermodel

plucked it from the ground; yep, it was a cigarette

butt, thankfully put out, but it looked as if it

hadn’t been there long. Cindy didn’t smoke, and Monica

hadn’t brought her cigarettes… and there was pink

lipstick on the end.

Asia Argento’s lipstick.

She and whoever else was still on the large-rumped

one’s team couldn’t have been gone from here long.

Cindy tried to tell herself she was sorry for having

to wake up Monica and tell her they were going on the

prowl after their competitors. And failed.

* * * * * * * * * *

Still smarting over how much of HER FREAKIN’ MONEY had

gone to the boss, and also smarting – especially

around her ass – over how Liz Phair and Kristanna

Loken in particular had responded when word had gotten

around J-Lo’s, Charisma Carpenter’s mood hadn’t

improved on seeing the latest coverage. Leaving aside

the fact that the jungle scenes were shot in night

vision (or as newbie Maria Menounos dubbed it,

“Paris-Hilton-O-Vision”), the ejected ladies on the

McMurdo estate looked as if they were having the time

of their lives; she hissed when she saw Sophie Marceau

with two cocks down her throat. “Rub it in, huh?” she


“Hey, Caz.”

“For the last time, it’s Charisma!” she snapped, as

the image changed to show the commentators each

resting with a different lady or gentleman in their


“I come bearing news from the boss,” Stacy Keibler

announced. “She’s got most of our money now – ”

“Yeah yeah, I know, and you want to beat me up about

it? The others got there first – look, I’ll show you

the bruises. That Yamila Diaz is a lot rougher than

she looks…”

“No no no,” the wrestling babe interrupted. “She wants

to give it back to you.”

Charisma made a note to go to the doctor and get her

hearing checked. “Little Miss One Way Pockets wants to

give the cash… back?”

“Every cent,” Stacy confirmed. “But there’s a catch.

She wants you to put it all on Troutpout.”

“But… but I had a good feeling about Cindy. We’re

both tall, we both have moles – ”

Stacy didn’t give her a chance to finish. “That’s the

way it goes. Put it on Jolie and she won’t say another

word. Even if Angelina loses.”


“It’s not her money,” Stacy pointed out. “Put it on

Cindy and you won’t be working.”

“Well, I could use a break from this place anyway…”

“Did I say anything about this place? You won’t be

WORKING. Even after ‘Gigli’ the boss can still make

life hell for anyone who crosses her. Especially if

they’re less of a star.”

Charisma nodded once, and looked back at the screen.

The image was an overhead view of the jungle, with

four little symbols standing for the ladies still in

there. They were all fairly close together.

* * * * * * * * * *

If Patty McMurdo could have talked, she’d have

wondered where her parents were. She’d have wanted to

talk about who it was that zapped her. She’d have

wanted to ask about what Karen was doing out there

instead of cleaning up. Instead she lay there,

drifting in and out of consciousness as her body

struggled with the poison.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was a clear and cloudless very early morning;

thanks to the moonlight, Angelina and Asia had spotted

Cindy several yards ahead; they had not been able to

rest because they knew the remaining two were in the

vicinity, and with victory so close nothing could be

left to chance. However, Cindy seemed not to have

registered them, which was understandable as she

didn’t have the benefit of a tracking device – but the

two remaining Lopez-ites had learned not to let

appearances be deceptive; Asia had snapped a branch

off a tree and moved it along the ground in front of


Cindy continued to walk along while Angelina looked

out for Monica; they had to be planning something. She

fished out her scanner and checked… yes, there were

two signals. Monica was crouching not too far from

where Cindy was. Angelina showed the indicator to

Asia, and the latter started off in that direction,

still carefully swishing the stick – which touched

something in the grass. Or something suspended in the

grass. Something that felt like a wire.

Asia stepped back several feet and pushed the wire;

something came whizzing through the air towards where

she had been standing. With nothing to collide with,

Cindy’s backpack kept swinging to and fro until it

came to a stop. Both women could see that it was

stuffed with far, far more than Cindy had brought with

her; wouldn’t have helped to be hit with that…

“Oh, very sharp Cindy C,” Angelina said to herself as

she kept after the supermodel, starting to increase

her stride in a bid to catch up without alerting her.

“But not that sh-” And that was as far as she got

before Monica’s boobytrapped (so to speak) backpack,

triggered when she walked into the SECOND tripwire,

sent her flying off her feet.

Asia had been facing Cindy’s backpack when she heard

the thud; realising what must have happened, she raced

after her sprawled comrade and knelt by her, glad to

see that Angelina was okay – the backpack hadn’t had

enough in it to put her out of action for good, but it

was enough to leave her out for a while. And in the

meantime Cindy was getting away; Asia reached for her

scanner to go after her, and then thought it over. She

could track Cindy… but she could also track Monica.

“Fuck that,” Asia spat. Cindy could wait. Monica


* * * * * * * * * *

“Improvisation – you gotta love it!” Lisa Dergan

laughed. “That should buy Cindy and Monica some time.”

“Asia’s still in the game?” Emmanuelle Beart asked,


“Yes, thank goodness,” Gabby Logan told her, between

giggles as one of the staff kept kissing her lower


“But I fucked her earlier!” Emmanuelle pointed out.

“Don’t any of you remember? She should have been

kicked off the field by now!”

* * * * * * * * * *

Asia kept going through the trees, the device in the

palm of her hand all the while. She was close to

salivating at the idea of getting Monica Bellucci all

to herself; and this time, THIS time there would be no

way out for her. The dot on the screen glowed brighter

and brighter – she was gaining on her. “This isn’t

going to be pretty, Bellucci!” she crowed. “Can you

hear me, Bellucci? Huh? CAN YOU?!”

Now it was so bright it almost burst out of the screen

– Asia was practically on top of her. The woman

started to run, now unable to contain her thrills at

how close she was… and then the signal stopped.

“No,” Asia said. “No, no, NO!!!” She looked at the

screen again, but there it was – nothing. One moment

it was there, the next it was gone. She moved

backwards, wondering what had happened, and then she

felt it underneath her foot. “No…” she said again,

differently this time, and lifted her foot up to get

to what she had stepped on, hoping she was wrong.

She saw the crushed bug. She wasn’t.

And then she found herself splayed on the ground, a

foot placed squarely on her back. “I found it in my

backpack,” Monica Bellucci said coldly. “You hid it

well, but you didn’t hide it well enough. I’m sure

there’s one in Cindy’s bag as well.”

“Get… off… me!” Asia snapped into the soil.

“You should be disqualified for this,” Monica

continued, and ground her foot onto Asia again. “Did

you think you could get away with this on something

shown all over the world? And you call ME just tits

and ass?”

“It’s not the first time they’ve ignored the rules,

you fat-assed whore!” Asia yelled. “Emmanuelle got me

and she fucked me, but I’m still here…”

“She what?!”

“Yeah! Manon of the Spring didn’t fire the beacon…

bet she didn’t tell you that, Boobalina!”

“Believe me,” Monica breathed as she lifted her foot

off Asia’s back, “that is NOT a mistake I’ll make.”

Asia kicked out backwards and caught Monica in her

stomach, and then scrambled over and butted her in the

stomach again with her head. “You won’t get the chance

to make it, slut.”

Monica grunted and grabbed Asia’s head, tugging hard

as the younger performer pummelled and scratched.

Monica dragged her away and brought her knee hard into

Asia’s chest, enjoying hearing her howl. She flung her

onto the dirt and launched herself on her, hitting her

over and over as Asia slapped back. The younger woman

grabbed Monica’s funbags and squeezed harder than she

had ever squeezed before; Monica roared with pain as

she felt Asia’s nails actually puncture the flesh, and

headbutted Miss Argento. The pain rocketed through her

skull, but Asia let go, and Monica was free and

smashed the woman across the face with her forearm,

seeing some blood fly out.

Asia punched Monica in the face and drove an elbow

into her side, then flew down and bit her left calf,

hanging on like a dog as she clutched the furious

woman. Monica let herself fall hard, holding the woman

underneath her, reached behind her and clutched Asia’s

cunt, ripping off the front of her trousers. She had

to keep the struggling, jerking lady down…

“AAIIIIEEEE!!!!” she screamed. Asia had taken another

bite, in her thigh. Then she felt her head explode;

Asia had slammed a hard punch by her jaw. Dazed,

Monica felt the energized Asia wriggle out from under

her, bleeding but enraged, her pussy out there in the

moonlight. Asia straddled Monica, clamping her down

with her hands.

“You want some of this? Huh?! That what you were

thinking? HERE!!” she shouted, grinding her crotch

onto Monica’s face. “EAT ME!!!”

Monica started to move her tongue over Asia’s muff,

rapidly thinking over what she should do next, casting

her eyes for anything that could help her, and cursing

the fact that she had hidden the bug so far away from

Cindy… a tall brunette would be really helpful now.

Other than the one who was making her go down on her;

Monica’s tongue moved inside Asia’s slot, licking her

out as easily and sensitively as she had done Sophie’s

earlier. She let her eyes flick to one side, and saw

what she was looking for. Monica started to edge one

of her hands closer to what it was…

Asia grinned through her bleeding mouth as she put her

hands behind her to touch Monica’s boobs. “Don’t feel

any blood there, thank God,” she rasped. “Can’t have

your pride and joy hurt…” She shook with delight as

she fondled Monica’s tits and felt the woman’s tongue

roaming inside her. Monica Bellucci might have been a

whore, a starfucker and a full-on snob, but she

certainly knew how to please a girl. And a guy, of

course. Asia thought she’d regret what she was about

to do…

Then she felt Monica’s mouth move away, and something

prod against her ass. “Hey, I didn’t say you could

STOPPPPPP….!!!” Asia yelled as Monica jammed the

rectangular scanner into her butthole, thrusting three

times before Asia jerked back and up, wrenching it out

as she staggered back and Monica got to her feet,

threw aside her shorts, grabbed the woman’s shoulders

and forced her to her knees. “Now YOU eat ME,” she


“Fuck you, Bellucci!”

“That’s your job,” Monica replied, and shoved Asia’s

head forward. Asia tried to push back, but Monica was

holding her hard…

Monica’s scream even reached Cindy. Now that she knew

exactly where to go, she ran towards the source.

“You… little… MONSTER!” Monica prayed that she

wouldn’t see blood when she moved her hand from her

crotch, and Asia hoped she would; the latter shook her

head slowly.

“I told you,” Asia said, “you won’t win this time. Why

not make it easier for yourself and just open your

damn legs? It’ll be quick, I promise…”

“Fine,” Monica replied. “Just end this.”

“Oh, I will,” Asia beamed as she mounted the woman


(“Oh for fuck’s sake COME ON!!!” Sophie Anderton

shouted at the screen.

“She can’t hear you,” Sophie Marceau told her.)

Asia had her hands on Monica’s breasts again; she was

glad that the indentations wouldn’t cause any real

scars. Rubbing them slowly and lightly, Asia dipped

her head to kiss each plump nipple as Monica heard

someone coming. Cindy was going to be here in a few

moments, but with Asia in a hurry, and with the

knowledge of how fast this little bitch could be when

she had to be, Monica didn’t have any time to fuck


Asia pressed herself hard against Monica’s hot body.

Very full, very comforting. Too bad it had to be

around here instead of in an expensive Venetian hotel

or somewhere. She moved her hands down Monica,

preparing to put her fingers inside her – and gasped

as she felt Monica’s hand forcing itself into HER. And

thrusting fast, the fingers whirring around within her

cavernous crotch. “You’re right,” Monica said grimly.

“It’ll be quick.” And with her free arm, she clutched

Asia and the two women began to roll on the ground,

Asia gasping and begging her to stop it, stop it, stop


Monica, on top of Asia, kissed her fiercely as they

stopped their journey, and felt Asia shaking under

her, alternately cursing and thanking Monica. “What…

was… that… rollll…” Asia twisted her head in

each direction; she then saw Monica lifting up the

beacon where Asia had put it.

“I win,” she cooed, and fired.

Monica stood up underneath the brief but intense light

the bursting caused, and gave the beaten and orgasming

Asia a contemptuous smile – and flew to the ground as

Madeleine McMurdo walloped her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I’d do you myself,” said Madeleine McMurdo, her

weapon aimed on Asia as she finished tying up Monica,

“but I’m strictly straight. Hey,” she continued into

her walkie-talkie, “I’ve got that Italian bitch with

the big tits here ready for you guys… no, the one

who was in ‘The Matrix’ movies… just where that

beacon was fired… yeah, great. She’s not going

anywhere… okay. My sons’ll be here in a few

minutes,” she finished to the ladies.

“What about Patty?” Monica asked, as the helicopter

came closer. And where was Cindy, she asked herself.

She had to have been here by now..

“What ABOUT Patty?” snapped Madeleine. “The

carpet-muncher can get her own muff.”

“She’s still your daughter.”

“What, you’d rather be taken by a woman? That’ll make

it even worse when my boys arrive,” Madeleine sneered

as the chopper lowered the rope ladder. “Come on,

Asia… your friends are waiting.”

“Sure don’t have any here,” Asia muttered, as she

climbed onto the ladder, Madeleine watching her all

the time, Monica watching them both as the chopper

pulled them back up and flew off towards the estate.

When the sound of the helicopter had faded away,

Monica sighed in despair. All she could do now was

wait for them to arrive… shit. They were here

already; she could hear them about to come through…


“I had to take cover when I heard Mrs. McM come

along,” the supermodel said, running to the back of

the tree Asia had tied her to. “If she’d come onto you

I’d have come out.”

“Lesbophobia is a wonderful thing,” Monica said wryly.

“I don’t know how long it’ll be before they get here,”

Cindy grunted as she started tugging on the ropes. “I

wish I hadn’t left the damn knife back there…”

“Makes it easier for us,” Lachlan said casually from

in front of the two women. Cindy couldn’t see them

because of the tree, but Monica had seen Lachlan and

Philip McMurdo come out, alerted by their mother and

delighted by what they had found. “Monica Bellucci

tied up with her legs apart; mom’s been reading my

mind. Step aside, Cindy C – we’ll take it from


“Don’t worry about the knife,” Philip added as he and

his brother approached the Italian. “We’ll cut her

loose before we fire the beacon.”

“No!” Cindy yelled. “Leave her in the game – take me


“Cindy – ”

“No, Monica, I mean it; I already let Sophie take a

bullet for me. I’m not letting it happen to you.”

“Cindy, what has to be has to be.”

“The fuck it does.” Cindy stepped in front of Monica

and faced the McMurdos. “Let her go, and take me.”

Lachlan and Philip looked at each other and then at

Cindy, who started to unbutton her shirt as a prelude

to her elimination.

“Okay,” Philip answered, and started to unbuckle his


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