Cindy Inc.: The Dollhouse, Part 2

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The story so far: Cindy Crawford and assorted other
celebs are in Barbados to shoot some tourism spots;
the ladies are one by one being approached for some
extra-curricular sex as they shoot; and Liv Tyler is
in hospital, but not before fingering Jennifer Love
Hewitt as the one behind a newspaper story accusing
Cindy of plotting to open a branch of Cindy Inc. down
there, which does not go down well with the locals.
Now read on… (Not for under-18s; not meant to
portray how they actually behave; any feedback
welcome, etc.)

* * * * * * * * * *

“What, you think I did it?” Jennifer Love Hewitt
protested. “But
I’m staying right here!”

“You could be faking it! Playing you’re the big
innocent just to cover yourself…” Mariah accused.

“Look at the paper, huh?” JLH begged, taking the copy
from Cindy and unfolding it. “They never actually SAID
who the women were. You know me, Cindy… you know I’d
never go behind your back like that. And maybe she
meant to say Jennifer Lopez.”

“If she was here you can bet we’d know about it,”
Brooke pointed out. “One thing she’s not known for is
hiding her light under a bushel.”

“But if it wasn’t you – and I’m not saying for sure it
wasn’t – then why did Liv say that?” asked Cindy,
keeping an ear open just in case the ruckus was dying
down. “And is there any way we can find out who the
other person was?”

“There might be,” Brooke said thoughtfully. “Maybe if
we talked to the person who did this story…”

“Don’t you ever watch TV? Reporters aren’t supposed to
tell their sources,” Mariah parried.

“Well, that’s one way to sort this out once and for
all,” Cindy added, as someone knocked on the door. She
pulled it open to see the manager, looking harried and
older than his years.

“They’ve been led off by some decoys,” he managed to
say through his nerves. “It’s safe for you to leave
now. You can still stay in this hotel, but I must
request that you bring no one here – those people
looked ready to kill.”

“Tell me about it,” Jennifer muttered as she and the
others stepped out, and Jessica – who had been trying
to get the other three on the phone up till then -
said “Oh, there you are! Look, it’s Jessica here, and
we’ve got a situation… here you go, Cindy.”

In her own room, Kelly Rowland was pacing and worried.
Anastacia wasn’t back yet, and neither was the chick
from “Alias” – she knew they were both grown women,
but… “And now everything’s going to hell in a
handbasket down there as well?” she asked Cindy.

“You stay there until the camera crew arrives.”

“But it’s like this whole thing’s cursed or somethin,’
Cin! My girlfriends either missing or in hospital – if
I go out there who knows what’ll happen…”

“Listen. Mariah, Brooke and Jennifer are going to go
and have a word with this Archer lady who wrote the
story – try and tell her our side of the story, maybe
find out who’s been lying. Why not go and have a rest
or something… and relax, it’ll work out.”

Kelly wished she could be as confident as Cindy
sounded as she hung up. But she was right; she needed
to calm down.

She could also use a shower.

* * * * * * * * * *

Today Christina Milian was doing her shoot, and
afterwards she was going to try some of that cool
Caribbean water. But all of that was in the afternoon;
this was the morning, and she needed to focus herself
in spite of all that was going on. She’d seen the news
reports, and hadn’t believed a word of it – she was
sure it would be sorted out by the time they had to
leave.

For now, Christina was hungry. She had found herself a
Chefette and in between assuring the surprised counter
staff that she was who they thought she was, she had
gotten herself a beef roti and chips, and was halfway
through them when her table was occupied by another
customer. Christina actually liked it when she wasn’t
interrupted by people when she was eating, but she
didn’t want to cause a scene.

“Oh, I’m sorry… is this seat taken?”

“It is now,” the Cuban singer giggled, relieved that
the guy was at least polite. And cute.

“I thought you might be expecting someone. Someone who
looks as good as you really should be.”

“Thank you, but everybody’s alone sometimes.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Maybe you and I could…”

“It would be my pleasure,” Christina replied to her
total lack of surprise, and finished off her roti.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Brooke asked as
their hire car stopped outside Nation House.

“It’s the only way to clear ourselves,” Jennifer
pointed out. Brooke nodded as she, Jennifer and Mariah
got out and made their way to the building; if
Madeline Archer wasn’t there they were going to wait
until she got back. A few enquiries discovered that
their luck was in – when the receptionist had
recovered from her surprise, and when the editor had
learned of their presence, it wasn’t long before the
three women, Archer and the editor were all crowded in
the latter’s office.

“Now let me get this straight,” said Archer, dangling
her glasses as she talked. “You’re telling me that two
of you have been lying to me in order to discredit
Cindy Crawford?”

“Yes,” Mariah told her. “Cindy knows that it would be
a big no-no to open up shop here – if it was Jamaica
it would be one thing…”

“No arguments there,” the editor chuckled.

“Yeah, they really know how to cut loose,” Brooke
laughed despite herself. “I was doing a “Wild On”
there once and these five guys – ”

“Brooke, not now,” Mariah interrupted. “Who were the
women you talked to?”

“If I tell you, the information does not leave this
room,” Archer said.

“Agreed.”

“I actually taped the conversation,” she continued,
opening up the recorder she had brought and slipping a
cassette inside. “So you can hear your friends Kelly
and Jennifer sell your boss out,” she added as she
pressed play. Brooke and Mariah mouthed “Kelly?” to
each other.

“First off, I just want to thank you for coming in
with this story,” the reporter’s voice issued thus
from the tape.

“We think it had to come out,” answered an American
voice.

“Cindy’s all right, but she can’t do this,” said a
British one.

The looks on the women’s faces had turned to shock and
dread as they recognised the voices. “Kelly and
Jennifer… Kelly Brook,” Jennifer Love Hewitt said
slowly.

“And Jennifer Garner,” Brooke added. “Those lying
cunts.”

“And you can prove this? Maybe Miss Crawford was
keeping you in the dark,” the editor suggested.

“Kelly Brook works for Jennifer Lopez,” Mariah pointed
out. “And if she and Agent Bristow are side by
side…”

“…then Garner’s probably working for Her Buttness as
well,” JLH finished.

“A mole for Lopez? She’s really overstepped her mark
this time,” Brooke said, shaking her head. “Cindy is
going to give birth to a bouncing baby cow when she
finds out…”

* * * * * * * * * *

In the hospital, Sofia Vergara was staying with Liv
Tyler in the latter’s private ward; both she and Halle
Berry had insisted one of them had to stay with her
until either her family arrived or she came to. Halle
had been persuaded that shooting her spot would help
take her mind off what was happening, and while she
was gone Sofia sat by Liv’s bed, reading and watching
her, waiting for any signs that she was starting to
come out of it.

Sofia was cursing the day she had agreed to do this.
Not join Cindy Inc.; take part in this shoot. It
seemed everything was going wrong – she was always
being harassed by some silly young man or the other,
and there was always the feeling that people were
spying on her. At least she had been able to talk to
her family and friends back home. And now…

Wait. What was that? The voluptuous Colombian model
listened closer… yes, the sound was coming from the
bed. Liv was stirring.

“…no…” mumbled the brunette. “…won’t do it…
stop…”

Sofia leaned in closer. “Yes, Liv?” she asked softly,
feeling some real hope.

Liv was struggling to come out of it. The words kept
coming, but only in bits. “…boys… everywhere…
boat… Lopez… ”

“You can do it, Liv,” Sofia urged, grabbing the dazed
woman’s hands. “You CAN. Fight it, Liv… I won’t
leave until you do… it’ll be all right.”

Many men would have been delighted to be have Liv
Tyler’s eyes finally flutter open, and a look of
recognition spread across her face on seeing them.
Though Sofia was very definitely female, she was just
as relieved. “…Sofia?” she asked. “…Where am I?”

“In hospital,” Sofia told her gently. “They found you
on a beach yesterday… what happened?”

“I… I…” Liv beckoned to Sofia to come closer.

“Yes?” she replied.

With as much energy as the tired woman could muster,
Liv kissed Sofia deeply on the lips, and lay back.
“…Love me, Sofia Vergara,” she whispered.

Sofia pulled back, walked over to the door, and gently
closed and locked it.

* * * * * * * * * *

You can’t go far in the Barbadian countryside without
encountering sugar cane fields. Not quite as tall as
an elephant’s eye but easy enough to get lost in,
assuming they haven’t been harvested.

The one that Christina Milian and her little friend
were hiding in was not one of them. Deep in the centre
of it, in a clearing but away from prying eyes, their
brown bodies were glistening with the sweat. Christina
had sucked on a fresh piece of cane to give her mouth
some practice, and was applying her sugar-sweet mouth
to the lad’s cock; the two tastes mingled to give her
a real taste treat, and the juice dripping down made
it even better.

Christina’s body was lean, trim and sensual; the lad
was similarly fat-free, and horny for this gorgeous
Cuban cutie. He cast his eyes around nervously
however, wondering if despite this (“AAAA… OH
CHRISSY BLOW IT…UH… UH… AAAAHHHH…”) someone
might still come. Thinking of Christina’s small but
lovely tits, the same ones he had rubbed with cane
juice earlier, he thought the someone might be him.

Two hands clutched his rock-solid bum cheeks. “So
that’s where you’ve been hiding yourself,” laughed
Jennifer Garner. “Christina, it’s my turn.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Christina sighed as she let the lad’s
cock out and the tall actress took her place. Both of
the other two checked out Jennifer’s long, well-made
body approvingly as she started to stroke him. “Slaves
need to play too; that’s why I’m not telling the big
bosses. But Christina…” and she turned to face the
singer. “I’ve got a real need to have my pussy eaten.
Think you could…”

“Oh yes, please!” Christina cried as Jennifer began to
swallow the lad. Christina began to caress Jennifer’s
beautiful porcelain body, trying to delay the moment
when she would go down on her; she wanted to enjoy it
as much as Jenny would.

From a distance, a limousine sat parked, the occupants
watching what transpired via closed-circuit TV. They
nodded as Christina Milian’s brown hands stroked
Jennifer Garner’s upraised ass and the glimpses of a
bobbing head behind Miss Garner’s lower half indicated
she was doing her work.

“Excellent,” said one of the people in the car. “Take
us back to the house.”

“But I want to watch,” another one protested.

“Why? We’ll be doing it ourselves soon enough. And
first we need to prepare for our guests – Cindy’ll be
along any moment now…”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jon.”

Until that moment, Jon Anderson thought the biggest
and best news in his life had been the day he had
graduated from a wheelchair to crutches (he would
never really walk properly again, but one day he would
be able to walk with the crutches – walking with a
limp would be better than not walking at all). But
now, the woman who three years ago had blessed him in
his own bedroom was on the phone to him. “Mariah?” he
managed to say.

“The one and the only,” Mariah Carey laughed. “Don’t
worry, Denise knows.”

“Mum knows about us?”

“Not about what you did to my ass with your cock, but
the meeting, well yeah.”

Jon was relieved. “And she’s not mad?”

“Well, yeah – but it’s not like she’s listening in on
us now. Listen, are you sitting up in bed?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Ummmm… I’m not wearing anything. I know you like to
cut to the chase. And that’s the only thing about me
that IS cut.”

“Well, I’m wearing a nice little basque… I’m taking
it off right now, and I’m letting it out right in
front of you… oh yeah, there it goes. You like?”

“Yes… I like.”

“I’m watching you, Jon. I’m starting to stroke myself
allllllllll over. I’m getting all turned on when I
feel myself… I’m getting hot watching you watch me.
I love it when guys look at me.”

“Yes Mariah… you’re rubbing yourself up and down. My
dick’s pointing right at you.”

“Uh-huh… that big long dong you’ve got. You
shouldn’t be stroking it, Jon – that’s my job. You lie
back and enjoy it.”

“I’m on my back, baby… I can feel you… you’ve got
great jerk-off fingers. You’re letting me play with
those great big balloons of yours; you’re batting
those eyes of yours and begging me to kiss you…”

“I’m biting your chest now. Not too deep – just enough
to thrill you. You’re begging me to not pull any more
on your meat – you want me to put it in my mouth. I’m
licking your bone now… I feel the inches under the
skin. Your cock is delicious, Johnny… I’m swallowing
it now, and you’re stroking me with your crutch…”

“You’re a vampire and you’re living on come instead of
blood and you’ll never bite it off… I’m prodding the
end of the crutch on your plump globes. It’s all
ready… I slowly start to push it inside. You’re
telling me to keep working it in… all the while you
keep working on my prick, and I keep on fucking you
with my crutch… now it’s sticking out of that juicy
ass of yours like a tail…”

“You’re pulling it in and out of my aching ass but I
don’t want you to stop…”

“You’re beginning to make it happen…”

“I can feel the first burst coming…”

“You’re starting to feel it on your tongue I don’t
want to come I
don’twantittostopbutitscomingitscomiNGITSCOMINNGGG….!!!!”

Mariah heard Jon’s voice rise to a scream and loud
cries of her name, followed by gasps for breath.

“Shit…” he finally said, impressed. “You should see
the mess on my bed.”

“If I were there I’d be taking care of it with my
tongue,” Mariah assured him.

And it wouldn’t be “if” in a few minutes, she added to
herself.

* * * * * * * * * *

Mariah had taken her leave of Brooke and Jennifer
after the interview with Archer had been completed,
since phone sex wasn’t something you did with friends
in attendance. The other two had brought Cindy up to
speed on what was up, and after La Crawford had
explained precisely what she would do to Miss Garner’s
various body parts when she got her hands on her she
had placed a call to Kelly Brook’s hotel room, and
then left a message with the manager insisting that
when Kelly got back she meet…

No, if she left her real name Kelly would know
something was up. Then she had an idea.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kelly Rowland studied herself in the bathroom mirror
as she showered. Maybe she wasn’t as filled out as
Beyonce, but her dark brown skin and trim, ripped body
meant she wasn’t short of admirers herself.

“Love the view,” said the man behind her, as he
wrapped his arms around her.

“Yeah, but you wish I had tits like Beyonce’s, right?”
she asked as she fondled her lover.

“Kelly, yours are quality over quantity,” he assured
her, tracing a finger down the line of her abs.
“Besides, you’ve got so much else to offer.”

“Ain’t it the truth,” Kelly agreed, exhaling as he
spread his fingers into her bushy pussy and opened up
the lips within. She felt him kissing her strong back,
her spine, her buttcheeks, her thighs, everywhere
behind her. This was a good holiday after all.

“Can you move forward a bit? I can see a problem with
your butt… I think it needs my cock up it,” he told
her.

“You know, I was thinking the same thing,” Kelly
laughed as she leant forward, her lover’s fingers
still inside her warm pussy. The man behind her began
to rub shower gel into her cute, tight little ass,
working it all the way up. Kelly couldn’t wait to feel
the length inside her; it made her feel more of a
woman.

“Come on, Ryan,” she begged, wiggling her cheeks to
make him harder than he already was, and then she felt
it happen. Though she never told her bandmates this,
she always had a hankering for white guys, and Ryan’s
slim cock was ideal for buggering – not big enough to
really ache inside assholes, but big enough to give
you pleasure as it went up them.

“Oooooooooohhhhhh….” she moaned as the pink prick
began its journey up her sexy little butt, loving the
combination of the water and the whang.

As Ryan slid his cock deeper and deeper into Kelly
Rowland’s rump, it never occurred to her that he had
never told her his name…

* * * * * * * * * *

Anastacia poured herself another Cointreau and knocked
it back in satisfaction. This was a great time to be
her; no worries, the shooting going well, and great
holiday weather.

“Give this little booze time to settle down, then have
myself another swim,” she said to herself, checking
the time aboard the yacht.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kelly Brook arrived at the bridge by the Careenage
just as the clock struck one, excited at the phone
message she’d been left. Something about the folks at
WB wanting to have her guest on a couple of their
shows – “Smallville” again? “Charmed”? “Gilmore Girls”
perhaps? Maybe even “7th Heaven”? She knew that
wouldn’t mean much to most folks in Britain, but then
again how many Americans would give a toss about
“Brookside”?

“Hello, Kelly,” said a humourless Cindy Crawford.

Kelly’s smile disappeared into the ocean as she
realised she’d been tricked. “What… you lying
hussy!”

“Me kettle, you pot,” Cindy retorted. “We’ve got some
business to clear up here.”

“Like what?”

“Like what the fuck you and Jennifer Garner were
playing at with that newspaper story,” Cindy continued
sotto voce. “Brooke filled me in on it – I know
Jennifer Lopez wants me out of business, but this is
way beyond what she’s pulled before. First thing I’m
going to do is fire Garner, and second thing is get
you back to the hotel and tear you a new–”

“IT WASN’T LOPEZ!” Kelly shouted, startling a
passerby, but neither she nor Cindy noticed.

“It wasn’t?” Cindy repeated, looking genuinely
surprised.

“You’re right, Cindy – she does want you gone, and she
did have the ‘Alias’ bint pretend to work for you.
Lopez signed Garner up the day before you approached
her, but she told her to pretend she was working for
you so she could suddenly decide to quit, go over to
J-Lo’s and embarrass you. This big Emmy-nominated TV
star suddenly dropping you, and all that. But I swear
this story wasn’t her idea; they made me and Garner do
it – ”

“Who are they?” Cindy interrupted.

Kelly hesitated, feeling she had already said too
much. “Look, I’m going to a travel agent and getting
myself a fast plane out of here. You’re stuck here,
but I’m not – ”

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s
going on, Kelly.”

“Dammit, Cindy, let me GO!”

“Tell me! Who are ‘they’?”

Kelly could see that Cindy would never let up until
she knew. Sighing, she stopped trying to run, opened
her mouth… and slumped against the supermodel, a
small dart suddenly materialising in her right arm. As
she held the younger woman in her arms with horror,
Kelly fought against the oncoming rush of
unconsciousness – she had so much to tell Cindy…

“…Maverick…” she whispered, and pressed a small
bunch of keys into Cindy’s hands before dropping into
darkness. Shaking her head in disbelief, Cindy began
to carry her to the taxi fleet nearby, ignoring the
growing crowds. At least she was still alive…

A small fishing boat on the other side of the harbour
started to chug away. The mission had been
accomplished.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the private ward at Queen Elisabeth Hospital, Liv
Tyler couldn’t be seen. But only because she was
underneath the ample form of Sofia Vergara, happily
tasting the Colombian model’s pussy as the one dubbed
“Sofia Viagra” returned the favour. Liv was also
eagerly playing with Sofia’s huge tits.

Sofia was cursing in her native tongue as she bobbed
her head between Liv’s long legs, feeling her lover
stroking her soft, hot skin. Liv was having the time
of her life; Alicia Silverstone had been cute, but if
she was a man she would have been in pain because of
how hard her cock would have been to be next to Sofia.
Liv moved her hands around and began to knead her
companion’s full, juicy buns; Sofia caressed Liv’s
sides and found her smaller but still wonderful
mammaries. Liv’s nipples were solid as a rock with all
the passion.

“Ummm… mmmm… never stop…” Liv groaned.

“But I must…” Sofia replied. “Otherwise I can’t do
this…” and she began to slide up Miss Tyler’s
inverted body. Taking one of her huge tits, she
carefully placed the swollen nipple near Liv’s
brown-fringed box and started to flick at it. Liv
sighed deeply at how it felt, as she studied the
all-womanly Sofia above her.

Sofia continued to give new meaning to the term
“tit-fuck” as the door started to unlock. She was so
thrilled with how it felt to insert her breast into
Liv’s cunt, and Liv was so ecstatic at how she felt
(she could feel each individual hard freckle of
Sofia’s aerola), that neither noticed the doctors
watching, shocked at the spectacle. And as Liv felt
herself on the way to Heaven, neither could know that
in a few moments, they would be under arrest…

* * * * * * * * * *

After signing Kelly in and demanding to be alerted the
second she came to, Cindy returned to her hotel after
summoning Jessica, Brooke, Jennifer Love Hewitt and
Halle Berry (Halle had been called back from the
hospital just before the above took place) – Mariah
had gone to do some personal business, but she had
promised to keep in contact. From now on, they all HAD
to – no more disappearances (and filming on the
campaign had been suspended until this was all over
and done with).

“And that’s all she told you?” Halle asked.
“Maverick?”

“Plus she gave me these keys,” Cindy added. “I’m
guessing one’s for her hotel room; I’m going to go
there and have a look around. The rest of you stay
here; don’t leave for ANYTHING until I either call or
come back.”

“What are we supposed to do?” JLH complained. “It’s
dead around here in the afternoons.”

“You’ll think of something,” Cindy assured her.

“Yeah, we will,” Jessica laughed despite herself.

“That’s my girl…”

And that was the last thing Cindy would be saying to
them for a while, did she but know it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Cindy let herself into Kelly Brook’s room, wondering
what she would find. There were only three keys on
that chain; one was for the door, and the second, as
she soon found out, was for her suitcase. She figured
that the third one would have to be for something in
that case; something Kelly had to keep secure.

Something like a bound diary? But it was the only
thing there with a lock that fit the third key; Cindy
opened it up, and found that the book had been
hollowed out to contain a video cassette. “Aha,” she
smiled, “a bit of homemade porn, or my name isn’t
Cindy Crawford.”

There was, fortunately, a VCR with the TV in Kelly’s
room, and soon Cindy was settling down to watch. The
production values weren’t exactly up to Jerry
Bruckheimer standards – just one room, one camera, not
the greatest sound – but there were still recognisable
stars involved. Kelly Brook, as Cindy had guessed, was
one of them.

Kelly was on her front, naked and with a few light
marks on her buttocks. She had been paddled, not
enough to draw blood but enough to leave reminders. A
cane came into view and WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Kelly
winced as she was punished, but cried out “Thank you,
Miss! Thank you, Miss! Thank you, Miss!” each time it
landed.

“Turn over, you Limey scum!” ordered an American
voice, and Kelly quickly obliged. Cindy’s eyes opened
at Miss Brook’s full-frontal – she had never seen
anyone so bushy below. “A few more around the chest
and we’ll be done… you’ve taken your punishment well
today, Miss Brook.”

Kelly beamed towards the camera as the wielder quickly
landed a couple of strokes onto her large breasts,
careful to just sting and not draw blood. “Now it’s
your turn…” said her unseen ‘tormentor.’

“No, it’s MY turn,” said a third voice, which sounded
familiar to Cindy. “We’ll handle you later, but first
you both have to take care of me. Let me put down this
camera…” The image lowered slightly as whoever it
was made sure the screen would take in everything she
wanted it to record, and then the camerawoman padded
around to the front, where Kelly was being fondled by
Jennifer Garner, the woman who had “punished” her,
whispering sweet nothings in her ear and laughing.

“Worship me,” the newcomer commanded, standing before
them. Jennifer reluctantly pulled herself away from
Kelly and applied herself to the third woman’s ass,
while Kelly proceeded to suck on her feet. “Mmmm…
let me suck off all the dirt from them, mistress,”
Kelly begged. Jennifer was silent, too busy rimming
the blonde woman in charge.

The three moved onto the bed, keeping the basic
positions, and that’s when her face appeared for the
first time. Cindy instantly saw who it was. And
suddenly realised who she was up against. And what
Kelly’s cryptic last word meant.

“Oh my God,” she breathed as she stretched out for her
mobile phone.

“Not quite,” said another voice from behind her, “but
close enough.”

Cindy had time to turn around and recognise who was
talking before everything went black…

* * * * * * * * * *

Cindy stirred to find herself on a plush bed. She
wasn’t tied up or anything; she was even in a
nightgown. And the room she was in was almost
luxurious. Not very big, but if she was being held
captive there were worse ways to be held so. Which
didn’t mean she didn’t want to get out of here.

The door opened, and the last person la Crawford had
seen before being overpowered entered, holding a
breakfast tray. “Do you treat all your prisoners this
way?” Cindy asked wryly.

“Well, we are going to be in charge soon, so you’re
entitled to a little extra treatment before the boom’s
lowered,” the blonde countered.

“We?” repeated Cindy.

“Yeah. When you’ve finished eating I’ll take you to
see the rest of them – one of them’s here right now
though. You’ve already met her, I think…”

Cindy’s appetite was low now that her captor had
mentioned the tape, but she started eating anyway. She
wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of
weakness.

“Breakfast is over,” announced a newcomer (the woman
who had been on the tape), flinging away Cindy’s tea,
toast, bacon and eggs. Ignoring the mess, Cindy glared
at the other blonde.

“It’s her place, her rules,” Christina Aguilera
chuckled, giving Cindy the surreptitious finger.

“Welcome to the Dollhouse, Cindy Crawford,” added
Madonna.

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