Cindy Inc.: The Dollhouse

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The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford -
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The
usual disclaimers apply; and any comments or
complaints to [email protected] or on the
message boards. (Note: Some of the celebs here
actually have been to Barbados [Cindy, Liv Tyler,
Mariah Carey - and note that in my world she never
made "Glitter"]; others I’m not sure.) Note also that
while all the celebs above will have sex in the course
of this story, they won’t all have it in the same
part. You’ll just have to keep reading.

* * * * * * * * * *

Blinking as the sun’s rays hit her eyes, Cindy felt
the cool grass on her cheek.

Slowly she drew herself into awake mode, and looked
around. She was just outside a canefield, it was early
morning, and she was alone. SHIT! So she hadn’t made
it -

Cindy’s relief rushed out in a gasp as she saw her
companion was next to her, still out cold. She looked
at her watch; through the light she could make out it
was 6:30. They only had 90 minutes to get there. And
they still had to get to Kelly Brook…

“Wake up,” she muttered as she grabbed her companion
by the shoulders and shook her. No response.

“Dammit, come ON!” she shouted as she slapped her. “I
can’t do this without you! We have got to get out of
here NOW, Lopez!”

The chain of events that led to La Crawford and her
hated rival joining forces in a race against time
actually began a week earlier…

* * * * * * * * * *

“…and with me in the ‘Morning Barbados’ studio this
morning are three of the most famous women in America,
and – well, I won’t hold the suspense any longer. I’m
joined by Cindy Crawford, Mariah Carey and Kelly
Rowland from Destiny’s Child.”

“Hi,” “Morning,” and “What’s up?” they said
respectively.

“Pleased to meet you all,” said the presenter. “And
welcome to Barbados.”

“Thanks,” Cindy replied. “It’s nice to be back here.”

“Oh yes – you and Mariah have had holidays here
before, haven’t you?”

“That’s sort of why we’re here,” Mariah explained.

“We’ll get to that in a moment, but first I have to
tell you you’ve all been causing a bit of a stir even
before you and the others arrived…”

It was true that the three had not gone unnoticed
there; neither had Liv Tyler. Nor had Anastacia. Nor,
for that matter, had Jennifer Love Hewitt, Jennifer
Garner, Halle Berry, Christina Milian, Jessica Alba,
Brooke Burke or Cindy Inc.’s newest recruit Sofia
Vergara. The reason for the sudden arrival of what’s
known in England as “top totty” was a mixture of
business and pleasure.

“See, Barbados wants to get more visitors in from the
US,” Mariah continued, “and this is part of a big
tourism campaign.”

“Each of us is going to be shooting a spot in a
different parish,” Kelly expanded, “and then one big
ad with all eleven of us.”

“How come there are 12 of you?”

“You mean Brooke Burke? Oh, she’s covering it for E!,”
Cindy explained (though Brooke was technically a
member of Cindy Inc., this wasn’t actually one of
their assignments, meaning no conflict of interest).
“We had a LOT of arguments about who got which
parish…”

There had also been arguments about other things
related to this jaunt. Some did not appreciate the
Board of Tourism spending cash to import “a bunch of
talentless Yanks to sell this island,” while others
simply didn’t like the idea of all those lookers
running around the place. The most strident criticisms
however, came from neither party; as Cindy, Kelly and
Mariah found out once they left the studios and had
bestowed autographs on folks waiting.

“Gotta get my cab now,” Kelly sighed. “All the way up
to St. Lucy…”

“You drew the short straw, Rowland,” Mariah husked.
“No need to get uptight.”

“Me? Uptight because I didn’t get to be in St. James?
No way – ”

“Shhh,” Cindy interrupted, as she plucked an envelope
tucked into the windscreen wipers of her hire car.
“What do we have here?”

Inside was a neatly typed out note addressed to Cindy.
Just one sentence, but it may as well have been
misspelt with letters cut from newspapers for all the
good it did to her self-esteem.

“Go home, whore,” it said.

* * * * * * * * * *

Until that moment, Cindy had fooled herself into
believing that no one on the island knew about Cindy
Inc., but the way news spread these days she should
have known better. As far as a lot of people were
concerned, all she and the others were were whores.
(In fairness, they were all her ladies, but…)

And she was getting tired of folks asking her if she
was planning on scoping the place for new talent -
when they weren’t warning her off (“We didn’t want
McDonald’s, we don’t want casinos, we don’t want your
kind here”). No, she was NOT in the market for new
ones around here. It was just a promotional job mixed
with some catching of the sun’s rays. She shook her
head as she sat by the hotel pool. Good thing she
wasn’t in action today; she’d never be able to
concentrate.

At least the actual rosters were a secret – if they
knew the others were on staff…

* * * * * * * * * *

“Yeah, I work for Cindy’s house,” Anastacia laughed as
the shoot ended. “How’d you guess?”

“I thought someone as good as you had to be,” the
cameraman explained, starting to put away the
equipment as he surveyed the small in height but big
where it counted singer. Anastacia had pulled St.
Thomas, and had been doing her spiel on the side of a
grassy hill, rock-hard stomach, tinted glasses and
all.

“Man, I thought I could hide it!” she mock-grumbled.
“I’m not on the prowl around here though.”

“Too bad,” he said. “Look… are you going to be
leaving the island right now?”

“Not a chance,” she assured him. “We’ve still got the
big shoot to do, and I wanna play the tourist game.
Say… how about a drink? My treat.”

The cameraman’s opinion of Miss Newkirk, like his
cock, was up.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Welcome to Barbados,” the passport control officer
said to Kelly Brook, as he handed her the passport
back. He tried to remember where he had seen her
before.

Oh yeah – that show “Smallville.” Too bad she wasn’t
on it any longer, but by the time he’d remembered she
was gone…

* * * * * * * * * * *

The parish breakdown looked like this: Kelly (Rowland,
that is) had St. Lucy, Anastacia had St. Thomas,
Mariah St. James, Liv had St. Philip, Jennifer (Love
Hewitt, that is) had St. George, Halle had St. Peter,
Sofia had St. Andrew, Christina had St. John, Jessica
had Christ Church, Cindy had St. Michael, and Jennifer
(Garner, that is) was in St. Joseph. She was striding
down a road, doing her piece to camera, talking about
how it wasn’t the focal point of the place but it
still had a part to play in the makeup of the island
as a whole.

“…and this is why they say Barbados is 21 miles long
and a smile wide,” she finished, thinking that she
really deserved that Emmy after this.

“And… CUT! Great, Jen – just great,” said the
director, pleased with this job thus far. No tantrums,
good working conditions – a real change from doing
music videos. He indicated that the gofer bring out
the drinks for them all; Jennifer looked like she
could use one more than the others.

The boy who brought them had his eyes firmly fixed on
the tall actress as she chugged down the drink. Not
because of her long legs reaching up to a tight,
well-shaped rump – actually he was fixated on her
lips. And the drink passing through them. Stage one
was in place.

“Er… Miss Garner?” he said as he started to approach
her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Hey, isn’t that the British chick from ‘Smallville’?”
Brooke asked Cindy as they swam.

The British chick from “Smallville” was taking a doze
poolside, having just got off the phone from her
friends in LA. Cindy studied her, and nodded. “Yeah,
that’s Kelly Brook. The ‘new Cindy Crawford,’” she
added ruefully.

“Oh, you heard about that,” Brooke nodded. “So you
won’t be going over to introduce yourself.”

“We’ve already met. I never fraternize with the
enemy.”

“Whaddaya mean…” then Brooke remembered. Kelly was
one of Jennifer Lopez’s fillies.

“Hi, Cindy!” Kelly shouted from across the water.
Cindy buried her head in her hands. This was not going
to be her day.

* * * * * * * * * *

For someone who was so small, Anastacia sure had
herself a lot of energy. She had agreed to join the
others for a drink or several, and now she was
crouching on the table at the cameraman’s house. She
was enjoying the feel of his hard organ crammed into
her pussy, rushing back and forth while his mates
squeezed and fondled her heavy boobs.

“OWWYEAHBABYY!!!” she howled, feeling the hands
rubbing along her tits, tingling as their thumbs
circled the nipples, and loving the cameraman’s
fingers stroking her hard stomach. Anastacia was
wearing her tinted specs even as she fucked, and she
could see another of the men waving a long, lean piece
of meat – also known as a penis – in front of her
face.

“Yeah, I’ll have a piece of that,” she laughed as she
opened her mouth. He forced it inside right to the
back, and she started to feast on it. Anastacia tended
to suck cock with as much passion and raw energy as
she sang, and that was a lot. Scarcely had she begun
to swallow when the man, grabbing her blonde head for
support, could feel himself about to come. What was it
about short women that made them so good in bed, he
wondered? Then he didn’t have his mind on anything but
all his come shooting into her gob.

Anastacia started grinding her proud ass against the
man pounding her slot, like she was making a raunchy
exercise video. He in turn began to gyrate
energetically, digging his fingers into her round rump
as he did. Anastacia’s hot cunt was making it harder
for him to hold back, and he had himself the best
orgasm of his life as he pumped deep inside her,
whacking against her cheeks as he just kept on
thrusting, rubbing next to her until all his seed had
drained inside her snatch.

“Don’t stop now, honey!” Anastacia begged. “I’m just
getting started.”

“Oh, so are we,” said one of the others, as the one
who’d just come pulled his limp meat out of her oven
and sat down to refuel. The man who’d just spoken took
his place behind Anastacia, studying her ready ass.
This would be the second rump he’d ridden today; if
only she had legs as long as the girl from “Alias,”
but otherwise he could tell he would enjoy this butt
as much as he had Jennifer Garner’s…

* * * * * * * * * *

Liv Tyler was also having a wonderful time, and not
wishing her father was there. The two men she was
lying between were around the same age as Steven
Tyler, but fortunately they didn’t look like something
from “Farscape.” In fact, they were really quite
good-looking – lean, muscled, and with complementary
dark and light skin, they were gently fondling the
once and future Arwen. Liv shook slightly as the
lighter one cupped her milky white breasts in his
hands and bent forward to kiss her again.

Behind her, the darker one was tracing a path down her
spine slowly, following the trail to her waiting
buttocks. Their love-making was being carried out in
silence, partly because the two men were too
enthralled by Liv’s nude body to talk and partly
because they had to be careful to not make any sounds;
concentration could not be broken. Liv reached down in
front of and behind her, and took hold of both heavy
penises; she slowly stroked each solid rod, as the
darker one began to slide his middle finger into her
soft little anus. The lighter one was kissing Miss
Tyler’s breasts over and over, feeling the energy from
her handjob; he was tingling from head to foot. Behind
her, the darker one could feel the same thing; he
gently removed Liv’s fingers and pressed his face into
her baby-soft behind, wishing he could have the
courage to stick his tongue up her back door.

Instead, as Liv rapidly pulled on her front lover, her
rear one carefully wedged his aching cock between her
cheeks and started to jerk. Though there would be no
penetration, both men were as happy as if they had
plunged into her. And as the rear man reached around
and ran his fingers through Liv’s brunette forest,
soon she was about to join them…

A quarter hour later, the two men slept on either side
of Liv, their duties fulfilled. Liv also had her eyes
shut, waiting for sleep… no. She was waiting for
them to be asleep. When she could see their REMs, she
carefully disengaged herself from between them; she
was an old hand at getting herself away from older
men. Standing at the end of the bed stark naked, she
studied them for a few seconds before slipping on a
bikini. Liv Tyler was going to have a little swim, and
it would have to be before sunrise. For more reasons
than one.

She stepped out of the room, and made her way down the
hallway quietly, tiptoeing despite the thick
carpeting. Soon she had made her way to the staircase
that led to the outside world; Liv finished the last
few feet and opened the door, stepping onto the deck
of the luxury yacht she was on. She thanked the
heavens that it was a clear and calm night, and looked
upwards for the northern star. She needed to get an
idea of where she was before she could start the long
swim to shore…

* * * * * * * * * *

The shooting schedule was being spread out over a
week, with Mariah’s set for the next day. So she was
using her time to check out the place (and get some
work on her tan). She had also decided to do some
shopping, and it was this latter activity that she had
her first real unpleasant experience so far.

Even though she’d been here before for relaxation and
for shooting “Dream Weaver,” she was still unused to
the hefty markup on prices. But when in Rome, etc.
Mariah reached up for the bottle of Cockspur, as a
voice behind her said “Jon says hi.”

She only just managed to not drop it as she remembered
Jon Anderson. Her mind took her back to the treatment
her ass had received from the guy’s prick, explaining
the blissful smile as she faced Denise Anderson. “Oh
yeah… how is he these days? And how’d you know it
was me?”

“I’ve had to put up with seeing you on TV enough to
know you from behind,” Denise answered shortly, hiding
her disapproval at Mariah’s outfit. “When are you
going back up?”

“At the end of the week,” Mariah replied. “Listen, can
you give me his number? I thought I could give him a
little buzz…”

Denise didn’t know what she and her oldest son had
done, and despite efforts to get him to talk he
hadn’t. But if this big star was willing to leave her
ego aside for a bit… “All right. But I need you to
tell me something first. What did you thank him for?”

“Now you know I can’t tell you that,” Mariah giggled.
“It’s a secret.”

“Then you won’t tell him anything,” Denise retorted,
and turned to go to the counter.

“Wait!” Mariah called back, and prayed she wouldn’t
regret what she was about to tell her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You’re sure about this?” the editor asked Archer, as
he finished reading her report.

“Definitely. They told me right to my face. Probably
figured it wouldn’t go anywhere if they put it in some
Caribbean newspaper,” she laughed.

“Well, it’s going somewhere all right. Page one…”

* * * * * * * * * *

Day One had come to an end – Jennifer Garner’s, Kelly
Rowland’s, Liv Tyler’s and Anastacia’s were in the
can. The next day it would be Jessica Alba’s,
Christina Milian’s and Jennifer Love Hewitt’s to be
done, and on the third day Mariah, Halle, Sofia and
Cindy would be in action. Day four would see the big
one being done, and then a few days of relaxation in
between interviews with Brooke.

Cindy hung up the phone in her suite, having just had
a word with the others – Liv had not as yet returned
from her shoot, but they had figured she had decided
to paint the town red. Not that Cindy could blame her,
as some of the others were living it up as well. And
in a few moments, she would also be about to relax
with -

There was a knock on her door. That was him; as she
let in her company, she reflected on just how loud
money could talk. This hotelier had offered her more
than double her going rate for one night with her, but
Cindy had declined, explaining that she wasn’t working
now. The price had doubled and quadrupled before La
Crawford had finally given in, feeling glad that it
wasn’t Michael Winner.

“I promise it’ll be worth it or your money back,” she
said softly as the two sat down.

“Have you ever had to give a refund?” he asked, taking
her hand.

“Once or twice,” she admitted.

“At least you’re honest about it,” he nodded. “I hope
I can give satisfaction….”

“We’ll see,” Cindy told him, as she gave him the first
kiss of the evening. She was relieved that he was one
of the men who insisted on clean breath before sex;
he, in turn, was impressed with her kissing. He took
her in her arms, enjoying the crispness of her dress
and loving the warm body underneath. She was fumbling
with his clothes, and he was also searching for the
zipper. Studying the mirror behind them, he watched as
he found it and slowly opened the dress.

“Mmmmmmmmmm….” he said in satisfaction, enjoying
both Cindy’s lips and the sight in the mirror as her
bare back was exposed; she wasn’t wearing a bra, and
as she slipped out of the dress he saw that she wasn’t
wearing any panties either. The naked supermodel
legend pressed against the dressed hotelier, and let
him enjoy her heat for a moment before starting to
undress him.

Silently thankful that he was the same age as her,
Cindy soon had him nude as well. She was all over him;
she hated it when people just lay there while the
partner did all the work. Plus she knew the recipients
loved it, and he was no exception. As Cindy ground
away on top of him, he took her right breast in hand
and slowly took the nipple into his mouth, slurping
and sucking. Cindy’s breasts weren’t huge by any
means, but they were succulent – he tried to decide
which one felt better, but couldn’t. As he caressed
this willing woman, he thought that he could open his
mouth and just swallow her whole, she was that
delicious.

“You want some of this?” Cindy asked, as she turned
around and positioned herself in front of him, both
holes accessible. “You choose which one you want.”

The hotelier reached up and started to perform
anilingus for the first time in his life, as Cindy
closed her eyes and relished it. No matter how many
times a man ate her ass, she always enjoyed it; almost
as much as she loved getting (and giving) head. And
when the guy took the time to massage her cheeks as
well, as he was… Cindy tingled as she felt his
tongue go up her asshole. “Aaaahhh…” she sighed in
satisfaction, and opened her eyes to see his upright,
cut rod. “Stay with me, I need to change position a
bit…”

Cindy’s legs were long enough for her to only bend
forward a little and take the hotelier’s cock in her
mouth. As he kissed her lovely little bud, he thought
to himself that sex with her would have been a bargain
at twice the price…

* * * * * * * * * *

Cindy was woken up some hours later by her own mobile
phone (she would of course have received a wake-up
call on the day of her shoot, but on the hotel line).
Half-hoping it was the hotelier wanting seconds – she
had so enjoyed him that she was prepared to give him
another go on the house – she answered it, memories of
last night dancing in her head.

“Hi, Cindy? JLH here – we’ve got a problem.”

“Every time you call me it’s a problem,” Cindy
muttered. “Can’t it wait till later?”

“Trust me,” Jennifer Love Hewitt replied from the
lobby, “it can’t. You’ve made the front page of the
papers. Actually… we all have.”

“What is it?”

“Go and check your copy – I’ll meet you down here. If
I’m still alive…”

Cindy threw on a dressing gown and opened her suite
door, to see her complimentary paper waiting for her;
she quickly opened it and shouted “SWEET MOTHER OF
GOD!!!”

The “Daily Nation” had a picture of her on the cover,
alongside the headline “HOOKERS GO HOME – Plan to open
branch of brothel in Barbados revealed exclusively to
NATION reporter: She’s a world-famous supermodel and
businesswoman – and madame. And now, Cindy Crawford is
ostensibly in Barbados to shoot a tourism campaign for
American TV with several other celebrities. But
yesterday two of the other celebrities disclosed that
Crawford, 36, is actually intent on acquiring property
to establish a Caribbean outlet for her highly
successful Cindy,Inc. celebrity brothel.

“The women, who refused to be identified…”

“Oh, they’ll be identified all right,” Cindy growled
as she flung aside the paper and stormed downstairs,
wondering what Jennifer meant by “If I’m still alive.”

She understood as soon as she got down there. There
was quite a mob of protesters, waving placards and
chanting threats and slogans. Jennifer, Brooke Burke,
Mariah Carey and Jessica Alba, who like Cindy were all
staying at this particular hotel, had had to take
refuge in a backroom, to which a concierge hurriedly
ushered her (“We’ll tell you when it’s safe to come
out”).

Inside, Cindy gave vent to her fury. “I was NEVER
going to set up shop here! You know what’ll happen
when they find out about this back home – PageSix’ll
have wet dreams when this breaks…”

“Look, the important thing is to find out who’s been
spreading this,” Mariah interrupted. “Does the paper
say?”

“Of fucking course it doesn’t! None of you are THAT
stupid!” Cindy snapped.

“Wait a minute – you’re saying it was one of us who
spilled?” Jessica replied angrily.

“Two of you, anyway. I’m not saying it was anyone in
this room… I’m calling the troops. (Opened the phone
and dialled) Hello? Yeah, it’s Cindy. Look, is Liv…
What do you mean she’s not there? Well, put on one of
the others… What? Then where… OH, SHIT! And she
said what?… Oh God – we’ll be there soon as we
can…” (Hung up) “That was the suite Liv, Christina,
Halle and Sofia Vergara had at Sandals – three of them
are up at the hospital. Liv washed up on Brighton
beach this morning…”

“Oh Jesus,” whispered Mariah. “Is she…?”

“No, but she’s lucky to be alive. She’s in a coma -
the doctors aren’t sure what happened to her,” Cindy
continued as she punched in Halle’s mobile number.
“One of you call up the other hotel – get Anastacia,
Jenny Garner, Kelly, anyone… Halle? What the fuck
happened?”

“No one’s telling us anything,” Halle Berry told Cindy
from the entrance of the hospital. “They did let us
see her for a few minutes… she looked like she was
drunk or something. But she did say something before
she went under…”

What she said made Cindy’s face harden. “Are you sure
it was that? Not… Okay, Halle – hang in there,” she
said and hung up. “Liv did say one word before she
went under.”

“What? Come on, Cindy, what?” Brooke begged.

” ‘Jennifer Lah…’,” Cindy reported, and everyone
turned to Jennifer Love Hewitt.

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