The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford –
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. As
you’ve probably figured out, these stories is
fictional and do not represent how the celebrities
involved behave in real life. They aren’t intended for
under-18s, and any comments should go to the message
boards or to firstname.lastname@example.org
Like part 7, this was one of the stories that went
down in the Big Crash – I used the opportunity to do a
bit of rewriting (the bit where Jennifer Lopez rescues
Cindy Crawford, the final showdown between Brooke
Burke and Anna Nicole Smith,
and the scene with
Christina Aguilera going back to her Barbadian jail
cell are all slightly different from how they were
originally presented because I wasn’t entirely
satisfied first time around – what can I say, I was
never one for rewrites…), but otherwise and allowing
for the odd grammar cleanup and a few small changes –
in the original version I said they don’t get “FHM” in
Barbados, but I was wrong – it’s in its pre-crash
Previously on “Cindy Inc.”: On the opening night of
the Dollhouse, a whorehouse moored off the coast of
Barbados and overseen by the evil Madonna and her
partners, Cindy Crawford and Jennifer Lopez have been
auctioned off to the Rogers brothers. The two madames
have left Cindy’s ladies with a plan to scupper
Madonna’s scheme to wipe out their brothels while they
try to catch Kelly Brook before she denounces the two
of them in front of the world’s press, but they’ve
leapt out of the frying pan into the fire when the
brothers pass on “Marry” and having fucked them,
intend to kill them – or rather have Cindy kill
herself and J-Lo with a very special dildo. Now read
* * * * * * * * * *
Cindy looked at the device in horror; it lay there on
the grass ahead of her. Alex shouted at her to put the
goddamn thing on, and all Jennifer could do was shake
her head in disbelief.
“If she don’t get the thing on by the time I count to
three, cut J-Lo’s throat wide open,” Norman said
tersely. “And do it slowly…”
Cindy snatched up the device, hands shaking. Alex, a
wicked smile moving across his face, let J-Lo go and
kicked her over to Cindy. “You’re not really going to
do this, are you?” the Bronx woman whispered.
“Stick it in her NOW!” Alex yelled.
“Just like a man,” Cindy chided, trying to collect her
thoughts. “You have to take your time with a woman,
don’t you know that? You have to tease her and please
her first before you poke her. Give us a last time
She and Jenny recognised the stiffening in the
brothers’ trousers… they wanted to kill the madames,
but watching Cindy Crawford and Jennifer Lopez having
sex was too strong a proposition to pass up. “You’re
lucky that thing doesn’t work until you’ve switched it
on,” Alex grunted, trying to hide his pleasure at what
was about to happen.
Hating herself for what she was about to do but
recognising it was their only chance, Cindy mounted
J-Lo and they kissed. Lopez started to fondle the
older woman from the hair down. Much as J-Lo hated to
admit it, Cindy had a really beautiful body, and it
felt wonderful. No wonder her husband couldn’t keep it
in his pants. “Nice tits,” she admitted, gently
squeezing Cindy’s breasts.
“Thanks. Yours aren’t too bad either,” Cindy replied,
kissing Jenny’s smaller jugs and stroking her head.
The two women felt they made a good fit – Cindy’s
all-American allure and J-Lo’s Latin extraction. The
latter licked Cindy’s nipples until they were standing
up with the sensation (and the early morning air), and
then kissed her stomach. Cindy sighed at the feeling
of Lopez’s tongue playing inside her bellybutton, and
gaped louder when the bottomy one found her other
The Rogers brothers had taken their cocks out in
excitement and were stroking them as eagerly as
Jennifer Lopez stroked Cindy Crawford’s ass while
tasting her wonderful little pussy. This time there
had been no orders given, no code words. Cindy had
been forced to munch on J-Lo, but this one was
spontaneous. She had a clit that tasted as sweet as
candy, and pussy lips that you could suck on for days.
Jennifer’s lips and tongue worked on Cindy with
greater urgency, and Cindy was almost wishing that
this wouldn’t have to end. “Don’t stop…” she
J-Lo didn’t want to; she hadn’t realised how sexy
Cindy’s legs were until now. She kissed the insides of
La Crawford’s thighs, and fondled her legs before
moving back up Cindy, who took her in her arms with
passion. Cindy stroked J-Lo’s back, resting on her
prominent buttocks and roaming all the meat therein,
before coming back to the cleft in the centre.
“You know, I didn’t mean to slate your ass,” Cindy
“Ah, forget it,” Lopez smiled. “I’ve had worse shit
said about me. I didn’t mean to diss you either…”
She closed her eyes as Cindy moistened her fingers in
J-Lo’s cunt, returned them to the ass and slowly
pushed them inside the opening.
“Yes, you did,” Cindy told her gently.
“Then I… take it back…” Jennifer Lopez shook as
Cindy slowly fucked her butt with the fingers. They
felt wonderful; she almost forgot that soon they would
be replaced with that weapon. But Cindy whispered
urgently into her ears for a few moments, and she
nodded. She understood.
Cindy took hold of the device and put it on, as J-Lo
disengaged herself from her rival. The brothers, whose
cocks had been rubbed almost raw, licked their lips in
anticipation as Cindy took her position next to J-Lo,
and slid inside her snatch (no oils meant Jennifer L’s
asshole was off limits). Cindy started to thrust deep
inside, holding her companion tight as the two started
to roll along the ground, hugging and kissing as they
ground against each other. Norman in particular was
excited – this was a porno movie come to life. His
hands nearly produced sparks as his cock started to
Alex was also on the verge of spurting, watching
Jennifer Lopez’s ass bouncing up and down as she rode
Cindy, arching upwards in sheer delight as she howled,
and then moving around again. Now it was Cindy’s
perfect rump in the air… and there was the low hum
cutting through the gasps as Cindy and J-Lo loudly
declared how great they felt. It was on, and soon the
two women would be dead. All Cindy had to do was stick
Alex moved in for a closer look at the two ladies in
action, as did Norman. He wanted to spray the bitches
with come as they died. The ladies were nearly
burrowing into the earth as they thrashed, J-Lo’s legs
wrapped around Cindy, Cindy almost biting J-Lo’s
flesh, the two with hands out of sight…
By the time it occurred to Alex to wonder why their
hands were out of sight, it was too late. Jennifer
Lopez’s latest orgasmic scream turned into a yell of
anger as she pushed Cindy away and brought up the
switched-on dildo, quickly pressing it against Alex’s
“NOOOOOOO!!!!!” hollered the younger Rogers brother as
the blade sliced out and into his crotch. Norman
leaped for them, but the women separated; Alex, in
agony but still alive, wrenched out the bloody dildo
and with more strength than Lopez would have credited
him with, grabbed her left leg and brought her down.
He crawled onto her, wielding the weapon as she fought
Cindy heard Norman behind her, but couldn’t bring
herself to run for it and leave J-Lo. She turned and
just barely dodged Norman’s cutlass; she grabbed his
wrist and the two struggled for control before
tumbling off the road into a small valley, Norman
losing his grip on the weapon as they landed. Norman
was spitting curses as he fought Cindy, who was
battling for her very life; she could see the cutlass,
but he was closer.
She tried to fake him out, but he knocked her down and
had the cutlass in his hand before she could react. He
twisted her locks of hair into his free hand, and
pulled her head back. “Wish the cops luck in ID’ing
you without a head,” he rasped.
“Please… don’t… I’ve got a family…” Cindy begged
as Norman pressed the edge of the cutlass against her
“Don’t worry, it’ll be quick,” Norman spat. “More than
a cunt like you deserves.” He drew the cutlass back,
preparing to make the swipe.
“Oh please God… NO….!” Cindy slammed her eyes shut
and prayed that it would be quick. There was the sound
of metal entering skin… and then there was a thud.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Norman lying on the
grass next to her, the still-unblooded cutlass in his
hand, and the toothy end of the dildo embedded deep in
the back of his head. Cindy stared in shattered horror
at the corpse, before she felt a hand on her shoulder;
she let out another sharp cry at the touch.
“Moley?” whispered a blood-spattered but unharmed
Jennifer Lopez. “You okay?”
Cindy nodded, and squeezed the hand of the woman who
just saved her life.
“But what about – ” a shaken Cindy asked.
“The other guy’s dead,” J-Lo said heavily as she
helped Cindy to her feet. “Like I care…”
It sounded cold, but Cindy nodded again. If they
hadn’t fought back, it would have been them lying dead
there. With a pause only to put on their captors’
clothes, the two bonded enemies had to make tracks for
* * * * * * * * * *
Morning had broken over Barbados. The party had wound
down some hours before. All the famous ladies on board
had at least one man with them, and several had more
than two. Madonna had her arms firmly around a couple
as she slumbered, Kylie was snoring away underneath an
ample man, Naomi Campbell had fallen asleep with a
cock in her mouth and was breathing on it as she
slept, and all the others were similarly in Nodland.
Among the captive women, Brooke Burke had ended up
with the most guys when sleep had come. It was Brooke
Burke and the seven dwarves – admittedly none of them
were really dwarves, but they were all smaller than
Miss B. Each of them had gotten his prick in at least
one of her holes, and all of them were wearing very
big smiles as they rested alongside Brooke’s gorgeous
clothes-free body, all with hands touching parts of
Anna Nicole Smith was the only one not snoring. She
wasn’t even asleep. She was wide awake, and she was
going through her quarters, looking for something
ideal for the task she had in mind… where was it…
aha! Anna wielded the golf club in triumph, and set
her face in determination as she quietly crept out.
She knew what revellers were like if they were woken
up suddenly; headaches, bitching and moaning.
Anna Nicole knew that all she had to do was strike one
good blow and Brooke Burke would be out of action for
good. And she could do it, too. She had to giggle; it
would be soooo easy. If only she had played along last
(She had been forcing Brooke to pretend to be her
doggie again. Brooke had been bending down and lapping
from her water bowl, and Anna Nicole had been
chortling as she slipped a little distemper pill up
Brookie’s backside. Suddenly, Brooke had scampered
back to her and nipped her on the foot. Anna had been
about to belabour her around the head with a paper or
something, but Brooke had given her the same puppy-dog
eyes and low moans of contrition that Sugar Pie had
been known to pull when Anna tried to dose her that
way. With people watching, ANS had had no option but
to wag a finger at her and go “Sugar Pie…,” but the
first real seed of opposition had been planted. It was
time for little Brooke Burke to learn her place in
* * * * * * * * * *
Kelly Brook paid off the cab driver and got out onto
the driveway. She was back at her hotel, and had
arrived… not early enough to avoid the press. The
flashbulbs and questions went off as soon as they saw
her; she withstood it for about five seconds before
telling them that all the questions would be answered
in an hour at the conference, now could she PLEASE go
and get ready, thank you all.
The ruckus caused did have a beneficial side effect;
two exceptionally beautiful American women in men’s
clothes slipped into the lobby unnoticed and went
towards the lift.
“Suppose it’s locked?” J-Lo asked Cindy as the doors
shut. “I don’t suppose you brought a portable break-in
kit, did you?”
“Switch off sarcasm mode, Jen,” Cindy told her. “We’ll
get in there somehow.”
The lift doors opened on Kelly’s floor, with the
lass’s room just by the doors. Cindy and J-Lo stepped
out, just as Kelly herself stepped out of the
stairwell – she had taken the back way up.
“Hello, Kelly,” said Cindy in the same humourless tone
she had used the last time. Miss Brook stopped as she
was about to open her door, and turned to see the two
women. Her eyes and mouth widened in shock, and she
felt her knees turn to water.
“The three of us need to have a little talk,” Jennifer
Lopez said amiably.
Kelly’s eyes darted from one to the other.
“In your room,” Cindy added as they advanced. Kelly
ran inside, but the other two made it in before she
could lock the door. She was scared; she had betrayed
J-Lo and had gotten the moled one in serious trouble –
were they going to take it out on her…?
“What’s the trouble, Kelly?” Cindy asked soothingly,
as the two moved closer. “We’re not going to hurt you.
We’re even going to be with you at the conference.”
“You don’t understand,” Kelly babbled. “I don’t get
down there Madonna’ll kill me.”
“Fuck Madonna,” J-Lo replied, before adding with a
laugh “Oh wait, you already did…”
“Shut up, J-Lo,” Cindy told her. “I’ll handle this.”
She now had Kelly up against the wall; there was
nowhere for her to go.
“Give us a kiss, gorgeous,” Cindy cracked, and
bestowed a smacker on Kelly Brook.
* * * * * * * * * *
Liv Tyler smelled the air, looking even more beautiful
than usual. The sunlight never felt as great as it did
now; she was finally free. Sofia Vergara had an
equally dazzling look on her face – freshly washed and
changed, she was happy for the first time in days; the
joy had started from the moment she had met up with
Jessica Alba, who’d passed on the news to her about
Mariah and the rest.
“I just wish they’d hurry up, though,” Liv said.
“It all starts at eight,” Sofia reminded her again,
waving to passersby. Although inwardly she wished that
Jessica and Miss Carey would get here – she didn’t
like being late. Who did they think they were, anyway
– fashion models? Oh wait… she was a model herself.
A minivan pulled up just by them; “Hope it goes okay!”
said the driver within. The passengers wished him well
as they got out – Jessica by herself, a cast-armed
Mariah with help from the former Dark Angel.
“A van?” Liv asked, quizzically.
“It was the only thing we could get on short notice,”
Jessica explained. “Mariah’s boyfriend wanted to come
but I told him we’d get together later on.”
“Should we make our grand entrance now or later?”
“Ummm… let’s give Kelly a chance to get on stage
first,” Sofia suggested, checking her watch. “Plus I
haven’t eaten yet.”
Motion for breakfast made, seconded and carried, the
four women went into the commissary, and woke up all
the men in there…
* * * * * * * * * *
Brooke Burke was still lying there dozing when Anna
Nicole Smith got there, just coming out of her sleep
but not wide awake just yet. She cast her eyes over
the dusky woman one more time; none of the guys with
her would get in the way of the blow. But better judge
it right first… she carefully lowered the club so
that the end of it was touching Brooke’s head. Not
hard, just brushing against it. Anna Nicole nodded,
brought the club up over her head and sent it whirling
down towards her nemesis, grinning with glee at what
was about to happen… and if she had started it just
five seconds earlier, what would have happened was
what she had hoped would happen.
But Brooke’s eyes fluttered open in time to see the
golf club whizzing towards her head – and the jolt it
gave her system was enough to wake her, and make her
grab the club, stopping it just inches before it split
her head open, ignoring Anna Nicole’s grunts as she
tried to pull the club back for a second try. Brooke
had been beaten up by her guys, dragged around by a
chain and made to drink from a bowl, but this…
Brooke wrenched the golf club out of the surprised
blonde’s fists and drove the handle into her stomach.
“OOF!” she grunted as a furious Brooke leapt up from
her private harem, whacked her around the face with
the club, and hit her in the stomach again. Brooke
kept whacking Anna with the club, swatting away the
hands as she fought her back. Anna Nicole had weight
on her side, and if she could have gotten closer she
could have pinned the lighter lady down; but every
time she tried Brooke landed a powerful blow, trying
to crack skin and bone. Brooke was also faster,
dodging Anna’s attacks as she concentrated on wearing
down the blonde. The two women carried on their dance
around the main area, Anna trying to get her but
failing to account for Brooke having speed and revenge
on her side…
Brooke feinted with the club, bringing it down on the
back of Anna’s knees, causing the buxom blonde to
buckle and lose her balance. Brooke pounded her with
the club once more, and watched as she tottered to the
“We’re SISTERS, Brookie…” Anna burbled through her
bleeding mouth. “We… can still… work somethin’
“Work something out? YOU STUCK PILLS UP MY ASS AND
MADE ME EAT PEDIGREE CHUM, YOU BIG FAT TEXAN BITCH!”
Brooke yelled, and felled her with a fist to the jaw.
Anna Nicole Smith crashlanded to the carpet, out cold.
“Bad dog,” the E! host hissed, and flung the golf club
down. “I hope your fucking show gets cancelled.”
“That makes two of us,” a quiet voice said behind her.
On edge now, Brooke whirled with fists up and ready.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Jennifer Love Hewitt protested. “I
was up five minutes ago… I just saw you take out
Smith… about time.”
“Great minds think alike,” Brooke said in relief. “Any
ideas in that head of yours?”
“Cindy and the other J-Lo had one. Anastacia and the
good Christina did their bit, now it’s our turn.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Watching her chosen bedmate leave the room and
admiring his walk, Madonna pushed a little button on
the table in her room, buzzing the other women (except
a still unconscious Anna Nicole Smith) awake. She
could shower and dress quickly when she wanted to, and
she expected them all to summon in the conference room
at 8; this was the day she had been waiting for. As
Kylie, Danni, Naomi and Christina shrugged off
sleepiness and headed for their showers, Madonna
practically danced over to her bath. “Madonna
Veronica, this is going to be a day you’ll never
forget,” she laughed.
She would be right, though not for the reasons she
* * * * * * * * * *
The hotel lobby had been set up with chairs, cameras,
recording equipment, a podium, a table, and a TV with
a VCR. Representatives from all the world’s main news
companies chatted among themselves as they waited for
Kelly to make her appearance. It was now 7:35.
* * * * * * * * * *
At 7:40, Jessica finished her coffee – the last one to
end their breakfast – and joined the others in playing
rock/paper/scissors to see who’d pay. She was glad
none of the others had eaten that much when she lost
the game (damn those rocks).
* * * * * * * * * *
At 7:45, Brooke and Jennifer Love Hewitt finally found
the place they were looking for; the communications
room. The officer on duty had been taken care of – not
fatally. He was slumbering, his limp cock poking out
of his trousers. JLH sniffed it, and nodded. “It’s
Anastacia all right – no wonder her voice sounds so
rough. I guess it must have been Christina who did the
“Never mind that – just get to the damn radio and
start searching,” Brooke told her.
“DJ J-Love in the house,” JLH laughed, and as she took
her seat Brooke hid her head in amazement. Sometimes
she could be such a girlie…
* * * * * * * * * *
“Should we call the others?” Naomi asked as she took
her seat behind the rest. (She didn’t want to sit in
the back, but Naomi had no choice – unlike the other
women in the room, she wasn’t knee-high to a
“Look, if Anna Nicole Smith wants to miss this that’s
her lookout,” Kylie replied, swigging her orange
“Yeah, it is,” Danni said slowly.
“Oh, buck up Danni,” Madonna said breezily as the
television set popped on. “You’ve behaved yourself
since… that business; we’re not after you anymore.
Now just sit back and watch what happens when you stay
on the winning team.”
Danni nodded as the CBC logo appeared on screen. In
about ten minutes it would be time for the 8 o’clock
* * * * * * * * * *
“Hello? Can anyone hear me? Hello? Please? We need
your help! We’re trapped on a ship offshore! We’re in
real danger! Help, anyone…”
Jennifer Love Hewitt kept transmitting, speaking as
clearly as she could while Brooke Burke kept watch,
praying their luck would continue to hold.
“Help! Anyone receiving me?!”
“…yes, I can hear you…”
“Oh, thank God!” JLH cried. “Where are you receiving
“This is Peter Carling here, coming from St. Thomas,”
replied the junior ham radio operator. “Where are you
“I’m on a boat off the coast,” the actress told him.
“We need your help.”
“OK, I’ll do my best,” the eager lad said. “What’s the
problem and what’s your name? You sound a bit
“Does the word ‘Cindygate’ ring a bell? This is part
of it – I’m one of Cindy’s ladies, and the real bad
guys have us on this ship…”
Peter almost dropped his microphone. He couldn’t
really be talking to anyone involved, could he…?
“And who are you?”
“Jennifer Love Hewitt.”
“Hi, I’m Jennifer Love Hewitt and you’re listening to
Voice of Barbados 92.9 FM.”
“Sweet shit, you ARE JLH! Oh man, I loved you in
‘Heartbreakers’ and that movie you did with Brandy..”
“You loved ‘I Still Know What You Did Last Summer’?”
JLH said in surprise, before remembering the job in
hand. “Listen Peter, I need you to call up the radio
“How about the TV station instead?” Peter said
eagerly. “You were the only one they never had on, and
I was looking forward to you most of all…”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Good morning, it’s 8:00 and you’re watching ‘Morning
Barbados.’ And now we can go live to Sandy Lane, where
the British model/actress Kelly Brook is about to
speak to the press about her role in the Cindy
The massed forces of the press finally shut up, apart
from snapping of cameras, as Kelly strode onto the
podium, smiled at them and swallowed a little. She was
still a bit nervous as to what was about to happen;
she played with the video cassette she had in her
Madonna sniggered at that tape. “I can’t wait to see
their faces when she plays that,” she cackled.
“Shush – she’s about to talk,” Christina told her.
“Because today’s a special day, I’ll forget you said
that,” the normally unbending Maddie said.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you all
for coming,” Kelly started, remaining calm. “For the
past several days there have been a number of rumours
and accusations made about some very famous women
doing some very unsavoury activities here. I’m afraid
to say that those rumours are all true.
“Today I have no choice but to admit I played a part
in those activities. I’m ashamed of it, but it’s the
only way I can live with myself. I have in my hand
evidence of what I was forced to do, but I must warn
you… as they say on the news… that viewers may
find these images offensive.”
“Not as offensive as your sad attempts at presenting
‘The Big Breakfast,'” Naomi laughed on the boat.
“But before I begin,” Kelly continued, “I’m not alone.
This story can’t be told without assistance from
others who were involved, and who are here with me
now. And now, as they say in America… give it up for
(“CINDY CRAWFORD?!?” yelled Madonna, Christina, Kylie
and Naomi as one. Only Danni was silent, a weight
starting to lift from her shoulders.)
The camera immediately panned away from Kelly to the
back of the room. A figure was walking towards the
front, working it like she was back on the catwalk.
Even a man’s suit couldn’t hide the fact that she had
something very lovely hidden underneath – the hair,
the mole, the smile… Cynthia Ann Crawford was coming
to them live and direct on their set. She was also
holding a cassette in her hands, playing with it as
she beamed, enjoying the shocked murmurs (“What’s this
tramp doing?” “The nerve” and so on).
“Morning, Kell – hi, folks,” Cindy said breezily as
she stood next to Miss Brook. “Kelly has something to
show you, and so do I. We both got our tapes from the
same source… someone who’s been behind this whole
charade. Someone who’s been trying to ruin my
business, and that of my rival. Someone who tried to
do it with the tape Kelly’s got.” Cindy turned to
Kelly and nodded; the British brunette pushed the tape
in and pressed play.
“What you are about to see is a very clever forgery;
Cindy here will then put in the real tape.” The screen
flickered into life, and viewers in Barbados and on TV
screens the world over choked on whatever they were
eating in the few seconds of the Crawford-Garner-Brook
and Crawford-Lopez-Brook menages-a-trois they were
able to see before the cameras cut away to the
reactions of the audience, with only the CBC
commentator to tell the audience the basic gist of
what was on screen.
On the boat, most of the women were slowly awakening,
and as yet didn’t know what was happening. The
leaders, however, were staring at the screen struck
dumb. Madonna’s mind scrambled to make sense of it…
Kelly was letting them know all right, but if Cindy
was there then… the Material Egotist had a vision of
a large collection of dung flying through the air to
score a direct hit on a fan going full-blast.
“…and Kelly Brook has stopped the tape, so we can go
back to the stage.” She and Cindy were standing there,
calm and collected.
“That tape was created by Mrs. Guy Ritchie, or as
she’s better known, Madonna,” Cindy continued,
ignoring the stir among the crowd (and unable to hear
the flow of curses Maddie hurled at the TV screen).
“And it’s time for the other woman supposedly on that
tape to join me now… Jennifer Lopez, come on down!”
(“JENNIFER LOPEZ?!” cried Maddie and Co. “All right,
what do you think this is, ‘The Simpsons’?” asked
Wearing much less flash clothes than she was used to,
the hubbub in the auditorium grew as J-Lo arrived; she
took Cindy aside and whispered to her for a few
seconds. Cindy nodded, and then had a word with Kelly;
she also nodded. J-Lo then faced the reporters.
“I don’t like having Cindy Crawford as competition,”
she started. “In fact, I’d love to put her out of
business… but not like this. At least she never
tried to drug me up the way Madonna did – ”
(“SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU LARDYASSED SLAG!” Madonna
bellowed. “Oh simmer down, she can’t hear you,” Kylie
admonished, and Danni secretly enjoyed the stinging
slap she dealt to the Australian minx.)
“You’ve got the real tape there, moley – put it on
while the others come in.”
“And she’s starting the tape…” said the CBC
commentator. “Oh my goodness… it’s identical to the
first one, except that instead of Cindy Crawford we’re
seeing… Good heavens… Ladies and gentlemen, it’s
Madonna had temporarily lost the power of speech;
everyone else was transfixed by the screen.
“And now we’re seeing the rest of the tape… instead
of Cindy Crawford and Jennifer Lopez, we’re seeing…
I don’t believe it… Kelly Brook is with Naomi
Campbell and Kylie Minogue!”
(“BUGGER!” shouted Naomi and Kylie together.)
When the camera cut back to the stage, the three women
had become seven. “Kelly Brook, Cindy Crawford,
Jennifer Lopez, Mariah Carey, Jessica Alba, Sofia
Vergara, Liv Tyler…” one young student said to
himself watching at home. “Christmas ALREADY?”
Mariah was still bandaged up, but was as ready to talk
as the others. “We’ll take all questions after we’ve
finished saying what we’ve had to say,” she told the
“Who shot you?” asked a stringer who ignored what she
had just said.
“Where were you all?” “Are there any more of those
tapes?” “What’s Madonna trying to do?”
“Reporters…” Mariah said to herself, as Cindy and
J-Lo stepped up to the mike and begged for silence.
“Most of us have been on Madonna’s yacht the
‘Maverick.’ She was behind the stories about me
setting up shop here…”
“Get my lawyers. NOW,” Madonna snapped, as more
questions broke out both in the room and on the
screen, which suddenly changed to show the studio.
“What the hell’s this now?”
“…breaking off for a moment for a new twist on this
saga; we’ve just received word that two people on the
yacht Cindy Crawford mentioned a moment ago have made
contact with a ham radio operator here, and we can
talk directly to her now. Go ahead, you’re on the
“Yes, I’m Brooke Burke,” said Brooke over still images
of herself and JLH, “and I’ve got Jennifer Love Hewitt
with me; I think the boat’s off the St. Michael coast
now… we’ve been here for a few days now…”
“ShitshitshitshitSHIT!!!” Kylie screamed.
“Oh fuck, we’re toast…” Naomi moaned.
Leaping to her feet, Madonna ran for the door. “WAIT!”
Christina called after her. “Don’t do it – JLH just
Madonna, filled to overflowing with rage at how her
plans had been destroyed, didn’t pay any attention to
what Christina Aguilera had been saying. If she had,
she might not have sprinted through the ship towards
the communications room…
“Yeah, she’s been holding all manner of parties here
with the women she drugged and kidnapped,” JLH told
the CBC team, as Brooke stood watch and chipped in
with comments. “She made me and Jessica Alba play
along; is she okay?”
“Yes, she and Mariah Carey are at that conference now;
our reporters tell us that she’s saying they were
thrown overboard by Christina Aguilera.”
“Yeah, the bitch had Mariah shot as well when they
The sound picture became overrun with crashes and
heavy profanity, as Jennifer Love Hewitt was assaulted
by Madonna. The Material Megalomaniac was wiry and
strong, and fueled with anger as she hurled curses as
JLH – “YOU ARE SO FUCKING DEAD HEWITT!!!! YOU AND
THOSE RANCID CUNTS CRAWFORD AND LOPEZ!!!” The sound of
fist impacting on face came over very loud and clear
to all the viewers as Jennifer fought back, but
Madonna had the advantage, digging her knees into
JLH’s breasts and throttling her neck as she swpre she
would beat the slutty little bitch to death and mail
her snatch to Cindy C just before she drove a knife
into that mole, pulled it out and stuck it in her…
“GET OUT HERE, NOW!” Brooke shouted into the mike as
she tugged at Mrs. Ritchie. “FOR GOD’S SAKE MADONNA’S
“Oh Lord, hang on – the police and the coast guard are
on their way…” the correspondent said, voice on the
verge of cracking.
Madonna, her fingers nearly breaking JLH’s neck, heard
the voice and stopped. She turned to look at the
radio, at Brooke’s face, and finally at JLH… in her
eyes she saw the end of her career staring up at her.
Realising too late what she had done, she dropped her
hands and freed Jennifer Love Hewitt, wishing she
could recapture the most fateful recording she had
In the conference room, the others sat there in
silence, mouths dropped open.
* * * * * * * * * *
Christina Milian had done her job well.
What the other Christina (Aguilera) had been trying to
tell Maddie was that JLH and Brooke had told the
reporter something interesting about the ‘Maverick.’
Until last night, the boat had been safely positioned
in international waters, meaning Madonna’s little
brothel was immune from prosecution. But Christina
Milian’s dark brown charms had seduced the steersman
into taking the boat a few yards forward and mooring
it there; not far, but enough to bring the yacht
INSIDE Barbadian waters, and thus making the activity
illegal under Bajan law.
Cindy and J-Lo had bargained that Madonna and Co.
would be far too busy with their massed fucking to
notice the slight but significant change in position;
and as Christina Milian felt the steersman kiss the
nape of her neck and mumble expressions of love, she
knew they had been right. She had done her job well.
* * * * * * * * * *
With the alarm raised on the yacht and everyone
alerted, Naomi burst onto the helipad, the other
bosses following hard behind (and HER hard behind).
They were just in time to see the departing helicopter
– the pilot had been listening on the radio, and had
immediately leaped to the right conclusion the instant
he heard Cindy had arrived at the conference; he was
nothing but a rapidly shrinking dot on the horizon by
the time they arrived. As a result, he was one of only
two people involved who was never caught.
Lying on the helipad was the corpse of Kenrick, who
had arrived at the same time as the pilot, and had
fought him for a seat as he took off; the pilot had
forced him to get out of the copter, but by that time,
unfortunately for Kenrick, they were nearly 200 feet
up in the air.
Naomi shrieked and cursed after the chopper as if the
sheer force of her anger would bring the craft back.
She was still standing there in fury when the police
and the coast guard arrived, surrounding the
‘Maverick.’ She was carted away, still bellowing…
Most of the women in charge of the Dollhouse, with the
notable exception of a docile Danni Ashe, resisted
arrest (Kylie, Naomi) or offered sexual favours in
return for looking the other way (Madonna, Christina).
Ironically, the only one who didn’t kick up a fuss
(Anna Nicole Smith, still unconscious) gave the
officers their biggest difficulty – the woman gave
them a hernia lifting her to the boat.
In the search through the yacht, more than one officer
was surprised to find a very grateful, beautiful and
nude or semi-dressed woman greeting him (the one who
discovered Halle Berry immediately felt all his years
of police work were worth it). Ladies and evidence
were soon liberated from the boat, and the grateful
Brooke Burke was particularly gushy in her gratitude
to the officers (who assured her that JLH would be
okay). Soon she and Jennifer Love Hewitt were reunited
with the others, and were being informed about the
Pandora’s Box that Cindy and the rest had opened on
shore. At the same time as closing down the Dollhouse.
* * * * * * * * * *
This was the biggest showbiz scandal to hit the island
since Jerry Hall’s drug bust; what with the ‘Maverick’
bust and what the Magnificient Seven (as one reporter
dubbed them) had said at the Sandy Lane, on top of the
Soundclip that climaxed with Brooke’s six fateful
words – which would soon become emblazoned on tabloids
the world over; hardly a front page went without “For
God’s Sake, Madonna’s Killing Her!” – the Cindygate
Affair was soon overwhelming reports on CNN, on the
BBC, on Sky News, on every major magazine show in
America and Britain (and “RI:SE”), and, of course, on
E! All reports on the latter were, needless to say,
fronted by Brooke Burke.
No sooner had the boats carrying the freed women and
the prisoners arrived on shore than they were at the
centre of a press hurricane. A lot of secrets were
brought to light that day, and a lot of promises were
broken. Starting with Madonna – the first, but by no
means the last, to strenuously implicate all her
colleagues in the scandal; their statements soon
became a textbook to selling out.
Danni Ashe had made the first statement, and had been
taken back to her cell prior to learning she had a
visitor. Danni considered telling whoever it was to go
away, but when she found out who it was she said yes.
“Danni?” said Cindy as a method of greeting.
“So you won in the end,” Danni replied quietly. “Came
here to gloat?”
“No. I came here to thank you for what you did.
Whatever you need for the trial… anything at all…
just say the word. I talked to the barristers and they
can’t make any promises, but… but you might have a
chance at a lesser sentence than the others. And when
this is all over, you’re starting at Cindy Inc. No
auditions this time.”
Danni nodded. “Thank you. But… let me audition. I
appreciate your wanting to help me, but that’s got
nothing to do with the trial.”
Cindy considered. “Okay. They’ve waived bail for all
of you so we can’t get you out of here, but how about
you do one right here, right now.”
Cindy sat down beside Danni and pointed to the zipper
of her jeans. Danni understood; she lowered the zip
and her heart leapt on seeing Cindy had neglected to
wear any underwear. The porn actress reached out,
knowing this was the most famous lady she had done a
scene with, so to speak.
“Go on,” Cindy said, “don’t be afraid.” Danni slipped
her hand inside and fondled Cindy’s snatch. She was
nice and warm there, with wonderful downy jungle to
boot. Miss Ashe slowly stroked and fingered Cindy’s
cunt, giving her little button a nice little flick
from time to time, all the while looking tenderly at
Cindy and enjoying her little wiggles of happiness;
she liked it. A lot.
“How about a little feel?” Danni asked, listening out
for anyone as with her free hand she unbuttoned her
shirt and lifted out one of her ample breasts. “Why
should I have all the fun?”
Cindy stared at Danni’s boob, before gently fondling
it; she then reached out and began to massage the
other one as Danni’s fingers began to move around
faster in and out of her lover’s tunnel. Danni
murmured to herself approvingly as Cindy stroked her
bouncing chest, and bent forward to kiss the bared
Cindy’s hot breath rushed over Danni’s tits as she
felt herself start to give in to Miss Ashe’s fingers,
now flying all around her pussy and sending ecstasy
all over her… she gave out low yelps as she felt
herself about to give in to Danni, rubbing her lips
and squeezing her clit as she prayed she wouldn’t
scream out loud when it happened. But it was getting
harder and harder to resist…
Cindy whipped her hands from Danni’s breasts and
quickly shoved them down the front of her trousers,
and began to give Danni a taste of her own medicine.
Soon she herself began to groan with Cindy, and stole
some kisses off her brunette lover. Each woman
wondered how the other’s pussy would feel when they
came; Danni wondered if she could persuade Cindy to
let her have a little taste later on. There was just
no way her cunt could not taste as good as it felt…
oh yeah, she couldn’t wait to fuck Cindy Crawford…
even better if she could have pictures. Until then,
the memory of the beautiful Cindy making her come, and
come, and COME would have to do…
* * * * * * * * * *
The search of Madonna’s yacht had unearthed the names
of all the men who had been involved with the plot.
Jason had been arrested not long afterwards, and as
soon as Kelly Brook had found out she had gone to the
jail to see him.
The look on her face when she entered immediately told
Jason that he would have an uphill battle to convince
her to stay on his side. “Kelly love – ” he started.
“Don’t you ‘Kelly love’ me, you slug!” she
interrupted. “I’m not staying long – how could you DO
this to me?!?”
“You don’t understand…”
“Understand this, bastard,” she snapped, pulling off
her engagement ring and throwing it at him. “We’re
through. I’ll see you in court.” And Kelly flounced
out, trying hard not to let anyone see her weep.
* * * * * * * * * *
In the mid-morning, a plane was leaving Grantley Adams
for Germany; a woman settled back in her first class
seat, finally allowing herself to relax. She mentally
cursed all the other women involved, but thanked
herself for having had that open ticket in case of an
emergency. Walker had insisted she do it, just in
At least her husband had gotten something right. She
would lose all the money she had stood to gain from
being a key player on the Bajan end of the Dollhouse
operation, and she had lost her husband… but she
hadn’t cared that much for the twerp anyway. She had
made sure as few people knew about her as possible,
unlike that egotist Madonna. As she saw her limousine
drive away in the distance (she could still pick it
out as the plane went higher), she thought she was
free and clear.
She was right; she would never be caught.
* * * * * * * * * *
“They’ll never get me,” Madonna assured Jennifer
Lopez, who had gotten some minutes with her while
Cindy was wanked by Danni. “I’ve got lawyers that’ll
eat up the opposition and shit it out all over their
J-Lo winced at the image. “You know that all your
partners are busy selling you out, Maddie.”
“Don’t call me Maddie.”
“What are you going to do, arrest me? Now listen…
they also know about the drug, how you got it, the
effects and all that.”
“I know what this is leading up to, lardass. You’re
never going to drug ME.” And she stood up. “This
meeting is over.”
“No, wait,” Jenny urged, grabbing her arm.
“Let me go,” Madonna snapped, and grabbed J-Lo’s arm
to pull it off. Quickly the Bronx native whipped her
other arm up, the syringe that had been hidden up her
sleeve came into view, and before Madonna could react
she felt the needle go into a vein and the fluid rush
“Yesss…..!” J-Lo said to herself as Madonna looked
at the syringe sticking out of her arm, before it was
plucked out. “Now, you are going to do everything that
me and Cindy say.”
Madonna nodded, as J-Lo continued.
* * * * * * * * * *
The following morning, Mariah was sitting outdoors
with Jon and Denise. When Mrs. Anderson had found out
where he was and what had happened, she was furious…
but she had also been glued to the screen. And when
the news broke that Madonna and the rest had been
arrested on charges ranging from prostitution to
murder (both attempted and otherwise), Denise finally
eased up on Mariah. She might have been a whore, but
she wasn’t a killer. And she did seem to genuinely
like her son; the two were so at ease with each other
that it was like they’d known each other since
childhood. Except that best friends didn’t lick ears
(Mariah to Jon) or stroke thighs (Jon to Mariah).
“You got anyone from ‘The Bold and the Beautiful’ in
your club?” Denise asked eagerly.
“No, sorry,” Mariah told her for the umpty-umpth time,
laughing as she felt Jon’s hands. “Cindy did try, but
they wouldn’t let her sign any of them. Sarah Buxton
and Katherine Kelly Lang came close, but…”
“How about ‘The Parkers’?”
“You know any man who wants to fuck Countess Vaughn or
that heifer who plays her mom?” Mariah asked
reasonably. “In any case, J-Lo’s got an exclusive deal
“She what?” Jon asked, surprised.
“Yeah – see, Cindy’s got first look on ladies from
ABC, Fox and the WB; word is some very rich guy can’t
wait to poke Alexis Bledel off ‘Gilmore Girls’ – and
Lopez has CBS, NBC and UPN…”
And while Mariah was divulging trade secrets to the
Andersons (which she would persuade them to keep by
promising them a free evening at Cindy Inc.), the two
bosses were in consultation with one particular ABC
lady. An anxious Jennifer Garner switched her eyes
from one madam to another, waiting for what they had
“So?” she asked, unable to wait any longer.
“So you’re fired,” Cindy told her. “You joined me
under false pretences, and I can’t stand for that. But
Lopez agreed to take you back… she knows how much
you like the life.”
“Thanks,” JG said in relief.
“However,” Lopez added, “there’s still the matter of
your betrayal of ME. Your commission is how much
“Well, that’s going directly to moley here effective
from your show’s season premiere, and until the season
“But do you know how many guys come to your place to
fuck me?” Jenny G argued.
“Why do you think I’m punishing you this way?” J-Lo
replied. “Think yourself lucky you’re not being fired
from MY place as well.”
Jennifer Garner thought a second, and nodded. “What
the hell, I’ve still got my Emmy nod…”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Hi, I’m Cindy Crawford and this is the parish of St.
Michael. It may be located way down in the south, but
it’s the heart of the island…”
Cindy continued to deliver her spiel outside the
Houses of Parliament, thinking over the past few days.
She and Jennifer Lopez had gone through a lot, and
while they weren’t exactly friends their relationship
was a bit better – J-Lo had assured her that when they
got back to the US they’d remain enemies, but added
“One thing though – better you against me than
“Just one reason why they say Barbados is 21 miles
long and a smile wide,” she finished, adding her own
“And… CUT! Excellent, Cindy!” said the director.
“FINALLY!” Cindy whooped, and pausing only to sign
some autographs for the crowd went off to join the
rest of the ladies on the beach for the big final
shoot. The plan was to have each woman sing part of
the National Anthem (a plan which caused Cindy to
cross her fingers – she still remembered the flak
she’d gotten for that commercial she did with Little
Richard), as a demonstration that not everyone in the
US was that insular or something. Whatever, it was the
Tourist Board’s tune, and she didn’t mind dancing to
it. Truly it was an “FHM” cover come to life, the
director (and crew) thought, surveying the
swimsuit-clad lovelies as he called for action…
“In plenty and in time of need, when this fair land
was young…” Mariah started.
“…our brave forefathers sowed the seed, from which
our pride is sprung…” continued Liv.
“A pride that makes no wanton boast of what it has
withstood…” added Jennifer Garner.
“…that binds our hearts from coast to coast, the
pride of nationhood…” sang Kelly Rowland.
“We loyal sons and daughters all do hereby make it
known…” Anastacia started the chorus.
“These fields and hills beyond recall are now our very
own…” Sofia continued.
“We write our names on history’s page with
expectations great…” Jessica added.
“Strict guardians of our heritage, firm craftsmen of
our fate…” Halle finished.
“The Lord has been the people’s guide for past three
hundred years…” Christina Milian launched the second
“With Him still on the people’s side, we have no
doubts or fears…” Jennifer Love Hewitt continued.
“Upward and onward we shall go, inspired, exulting,
free…” Cindy sang.
“And greater will our nation grow, in strength and
unity…” the eleven women sang as one before the
chorus kicked in…
* * * * * * * * * *
“…and that spot can be seen in full in about two or
three weeks time,” the interviewer told them in the
CBC News studio that evening. “Well, we hope that this
whole business hasn’t put you off Barbados.”
“No, of course not!” Jessica laughed. “In fact, we all
made some new friends while we were here…”
“We’ve still got some time before we have to leave, so
if you’re not careful you might still spot us,” Halle
“And if things turn out the way the lawyers want you
might be back here sooner than planned.”
“Looking forward to it already,” Cindy smiled, knowing
what the interviewer – one of many Bajans who had been
profusely apologetic to Miss Crawford and the others –
was on about. They were en route to give interviews to
Brooke Burke (and in the cases of Liv and Sofia to a
certain tabloid reporter – a deal was a deal), who was
compiling an E! Special on the whole business.
Interviews with the criminals involved were out of the
question, but Brooke was looking forward to sending a
tape of it to Anna Nicole Smith. Whose show had, in
fact, been cancelled in the wake of the controversy.
* * * * * * * * * *
Christina Aguilera kept her eyes shut tight as she
moved her tongue around the toilet bowl, as much to
keep the tears coming out as to keep from seeing what
she was licking. Behind her, she could feel the
warden’s unlubed cock grinding in and out of her
upraised, bruised ass. “Not as big as I’d like,” the
warden grunted as he thrust into her, enjoying the
pain, “but not bad.”
“Fuck you,” Christina muttered as she finished
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?”
“Nothing… nothing!” the diminutive diva wailed. “I
didn’t say anything…”
“You’re damn lucky you let me play with your sweet
white butt, Missy,” he growled, pushing one last time
and almost hoping she would bleed again. Christina’s
screams echoed through the bathroom as he finished his
business, pulling roughly out of the sobbing singer
and whacking her one last time. “Now get out. And
remember, same time next week, miss sexy legs.”
As his phone rang, the wobbling and sore Christina
started to totter back on said legs to her special
cell, preparing to listen en route to the catcalls,
whistles and offers to give head from the other
prisoners, and rueing that she and Naomi – but
especially her – had ever agreed to be the guards’s
playthings in exchange for their (relatively) special
treatment, and still unbelieving over how she had
ended up here. Not only had her record label washed
her hands of her (a fate that had also greeted Kylie),
but she would have to serve her sentence for
prostitution, kidnapping, production of pornography
and at least one count of attempted murder on
Barbadian soil, in common with all the other women and
men involved. This was what pissed her off more than
anything else – being stuck here on this little boring
shit of an island for God knows how many years!
She turned a weary head towards the grinning warden.
“There’s a phone call for you.”
Christina trudged back to the desk, ignoring the cock
he had taken out and was wacing at her, and took the
phone. The mocking laughter she encounted from the
other end of the line was so loud that the warden
could hear it.
“DROP DEAD!” Christina snapped, and flung the phone
down. How many times was Britney Spears going to call,
As she staggered back into the cell she shared with
the others, she took solace in the fact that today she
was going to get a chance to work off her
frustrations. The last member of their happy little
family had arrived to join them at last, and she was
not happy to be there. Good.
“Ready, Madonna? Christina said to their newest
Madonna was by no means ready; she was huddled up in
the far corner of the cell, hoping and praying that
one of her appeals would be successful, and not
understanding how she had willingly implicated herself
fully on the stand. And how she had INSISTED on
serving her full time with her colleagues – except for
Danni Ashe, who had been the only one granted leniency
from the courts (and was serving less time than the
others… and to make matters worse, in an American
prison!) after Cindy had pitched in on her behalf. And
why she was so full of lust for Cindy Crawford (all of
the above had been told to her by Cindy and J-Lo).
“Ready for what?” the ex-Mrs. Ritchie asked.
“Don’t play with her,” a bitter Naomi Campbell told
her tersely. “We saw those tapes you made of us.”
“What tapes?” Madonna asked, trying to pretend she
“The ones you did with us when that drug was in us,
cow,” Kylie replied, as she joined Christina in
advancing on Madonna. “The ones that helped you get
put here. The ones that helped US get put here.”
“We’re going to be together a long, long time,” Anna
Nicole continued, adding to the mob.
Madonna looked from one woman to the other in terror,
but before she could call for the guard Christina
stuffed a bundle of rags into her mouth, tying a pair
of tights around it for good measure, while the other
women ripped her clothes off. “Not a word, Missy,” she
told her former lover. “You had your fun with us, now
it’s our turn.” And she picked up a little plank,
handing it to a gleaming-eyed Anna Nicole Smith with a
“Thanks, hon,” the Texan said, running it down
Madonna’s struggling body as the others held her down,
and stopping at a part lower down while looking at the
pop star’s frightened, begging eyes. “I bet you really
wish you were me now, huh?”
As Anna Nicole drew the wood back, Madonna knew she
* * * * * * * * * *
Tony studied the small brown-curled head bobbing back
and forth between his legs. Jessica Alba had
cock-sucking lips for sure; she had had plenty of
practice at Cindy Inc., and it felt even better
knowing she was doing it for free.
She gently fondled the tube with her fingers and
played with the tiny hole at the tip with her tongue,
waiting for the first drops of come to start seeping
out. The little drops landing on her tongue made her
eager for more, and made her work all the harder to
get it. As Tony felt Jessica’s mouth move back and
forth along the prick, he thought the only thing that
could make it better would be watching her lock lips
with the girl from “Alias,” but Garner had left the
island as soon as she had given her testimony. (In any
case, Jessica had gleefully told her that Jenny’s show
was more cut in the UK than her own show was, which
put paid to any “Jennifer Garner fucks Jessica Alba”
scenarios for the foreseeable future.)
Now to celebrate the verdict, Cindy had arranged for a
little party in her suite; the champagne was flowing,
the music was playing, and the guests were… enjoying
each other’s company. Jessica had insisted on inviting
Tony, just as Mariah had insisted on inviting Jon.
Several other people had somehow turned up at the
place, and all had somehow gotten involved in the
inevitable climax of the evening. Miss Alba had been
the first to get serious, but the others soon
Watching Mariah grinding in Jon’s lap, Anastacia shook
her head in amusement. Too bad she hadn’t brought
someone along the way nearly everyone else had,
whether or not they knew them… she felt a stinging
slap on her buttcheeks. “Who was that…?” she
demanded and spotted a laughing Christina Milian.
“Come here, baby,” she giggled, opening her arms. “You
tasted pretty good back there.”
Anastacia studied her, before figuring what the hell,
and lowered her pink self into Miss Milian’s dark
arms. “Bet you want me on your next CD, right?” she
husked as she cupped Christina’s breasts.
“I was thinking about it,” the Cuban replied. “But
don’t talk right now…” and she buried her face
between Anastacia’s jugs.
Talking was the last thing on Sofia Vergara’s mind,
partly because she didn’t want to and partly because
in another part of the room she had two plump pricks
deep down her throat. Sofia snatched quick gasps of
air as she sucked on the men’s organs, one black, one
white, both hard and fighting for space, each hoping
theirs would be the one to come second, but neither
finding it easy to resist Sofia’s work. She placed one
of each guy’s hands in turn on her dangling tits,
encouraging them to stroke them, and driving them to
break down resistance even further.
Sofia’s warm, soft ass was tantalisingly close to a
woman who couldn’t believe that the dreams she’d had
about fucking Halle Berry were finally coming true.
Halle, for her part, wasn’t bothered about the woman
in question being 20 years older than she was; hell,
she’d been with men even older than that. She felt the
older woman’s mouth and tongue working on her
cherry-sweet snatch, while the experienced hands
stroked her sweaty body. Halle would be getting a lot
less than half a million for this, but it wasn’t like
she cared; she could tell the lady had been waiting
for this for years, judging from how much work she put
into it. Opening her eyes for a moment, she threw a
quick glance to the table in the centre of the room.
On it, one of the island’s most popular DJs was
getting payment for giving spins to the fuckee’s
newest album. Secretly he didn’t care much for
guitar-pop, and he also spent more time jacking off to
Foxy Brown or Trina than Jennifer Love Hewitt; but on
the other hand the other two weren’t there (“They’re
in J-Lo’s stable,” she’d pointed out sweetly), and
Miss Hewitt wasn’t a bad little fuck. Plus she was
built to please; those great tits were jiggling back
and forth as he pushed his pole in and out of her, and
he loved the way she stroked him with her legs while
kissing his face and neck. The DJ was convinced she
was only playing at being a good girl, a conviction
reinforced by JLH begging him to stick it in her
further, deeper, “Come on honey drive that thing out
my ass dammit…”
Though JLH wasn’t a singer professionally, she had
four albums to her name. Liv Tyler was the daughter of
a singer, but she’d never done an album, although she
was with a group at this time. Only a few, but a happy
few. A band of brothers, who were in a circle around
Liv, laughing and joking as the adorable sexpot
crawled from one lad to the other; it was musical
fucks all over again, except this time they were
riding her, wedging their pricks inside her shapely
ass as the others sang; Liv was thrusting back as each
buggered her, and bursting into cries of delight as
she felt each cock send its liquid deep into her.
“Hey, you’ve already had yours!” she laughed as
someone tried to cheat.
“Oh, leave him alone,” Kelly Rowland giggled as her
guys slathered the last of the oil onto her. “The more
the merrier, right?”
“You tell her,” the headmaster agreed, smelling
Kelly’s coconut-oiled bod. “Do you always fuck with
“Only when I feel like celebrating,” Kelly replied,
offering him a coconut-flavoured tit, which he eagerly
accepted. “Looks like the boss sure does.” And she let
herself lie back as the headmaster and his prize pupil
rubbed themselves onto her pliant form.
The boss – Cindy – was watching the action, a
contented smile on her face. She nodded blissfully and
took a sip from her Margarita; she liked happy
endings. “CINDY! We’re waiting for you!”
“Duty calls,” Cindy said to herself, and turned around
slowly, the better for the audience to check out her
swimwear before she went on deck of the “Maverick.” As
part of the aftermath of the trial, Madonna had been
forced to give up the rights to the yacht; Cindy had
bought the craft, and renamed it “Sandra” (after the
character she’d played in “The Simian Line”) – she had
her own company, but “Crawdaddy” was such a silly name
for a yacht.
“The party sounds like a blast,” Brooke Burke said to
Cindy as she emerged into the early evening of the
Caribbean Sea, well beyond Barbadian waters.
“Yeah, but this one’s my own private thing; I don’t
want to be distracted by Mariah’s ass or Anastacia’s
“Speak for yourself,” Jodi Ann Paterson laughed.
“Anastacia can distract me with those milk sacks of
hers anytime she likes.”
“I didn’t think she was your type,” Cindy told her,
and winced as she felt a small nip on her buttocks.
“I didn’t think you were MY type,” Jenna Jameson
confided as she kissed the tiny bite better. “Now come
on, it’s been a long flight and I need to recover…”
“We all do,” Brooke agreed, and as the camera rolled
to record Rande’s birthday gift, she settled down with
Tera Patrick on her left and Miriam Gonzalez on her
right, and studied Cindy as she was kissed by Jodi Ann
and Jenna. The quartet were the newest members of
Cindy Inc., and they wouldn’t be the last recruitments
from the less “respectable” side of celebrity.
As Cindy felt Jodi Ann’s lips move down her body, she
looked at Jenna’s open rump lowering towards her face.
Yep, she really did like happy endings.
* * * * * * * * * *
Tonight was a great time to be Rande Gerber, even more
so than usual; he was watching Cindy in a threesome.
While most men dream of watching women having sex, he
got to do so nearly every night he wanted, which was
why he was careful to do so only on special occasions.
And tonight was more special than usual.
Cindy, Nicole Kidman and Gwyneth Paltrow seemed to be
in a contest to see who could come the loudest; though
Nicole’s yells as Cindy lavished her anus with her
tongue were impressive, almost as loud as La
Crawford’s earlier screams as the Oscar-nominee and
the Oscar-winner had done her, it was the most demure
of the three (Gwyneth) whose lungs got the biggest
workout as Nicole went down on her. Rande’s face had
an even smugger grin than it usually did as he watched
and pumped his prick.
“Well, you can’t say you didn’t get your money’s
worth,” Mariah Carey told the other spectators.
Rachel Stevens, Jo O’Meara, Tina Barrett and Hannah
Spearitt were too absorbed to do more than nod.