anonymous
11-01-2007, 02:16 PM
The continuing adventures of Cindy Crawford -
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The
conduct of the characters is not meant to represent
how they actually are; the events are fictional and
not meant for under 18s. Any comments to go to
cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk or the message boards.
This story was first written for my Cindy And Laetitia
Stories Yahoo! Club, explaining its relative
shortness, and was there in slightly different form
(Cindy's rival in the "pilot" ["Recruitment"] and a
couple of the early non-CSSA stories was originally
Anna Nicole Smith; it's been rewritten here to bring
it in line with the series, but otherwise it's as it
was originally - except for the spanking). And as you
may have guessed, I'm not a big admirer of John "Me me
me" Casablancas. Unsurprisingly, he's mates with Naomi
Campbell...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Are you sure you want to go there, sir?" asked
John Casablancas' chauffeur.
"Yes, very sure," said the head of Elite. "I might as
well pay one of my protegees a visit."
"Yes, sir," the chauffeur said instead of "Oh for
God's sake man, you didn't CREATE her!" or words to
that effect going through his head. Like most of
Cindy's (and other models') fans, he was sick and
tired of his boss telling everyone under the sun that
they wouldn't have made it if it hadn't been for him,
but as long as he was driving for the big-headed fat
fucker he had no option but to keep his mouth shut.
"Unless she's banned me?" he asked.
"No - no one's banned without doing something first.
Not even her dad."
"Avaricious little bitch," Casablancas chuckled.
"Still, I think it's time she paid me back for all I
did for her..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"Oh for the love of God SHUT UP!"
This wasn't the chauffeur, and nor was it Cindy. It
was Jennifer Lopez, who had had it with hearing about
how much better Cindy was doing than Jennifer's place,
J-Lo's (that "Access Hollywood" bit was the last
straw). Jennifer hurled a rock at the set to "switch
it off" permanently.
"That's the third one this week, Annie," Jane Seymour
chided.
"Like I give a fuck?" Jennifer snarled. "I know we're
doing good business but everyone always says Cindy's
better..." she gritted her teeth and felt a little
ground tooth fall away before continuing. "There has
to be a way to get her out of the business."
"You know, this town IS big enough for the two of
you," Jane pointed out.
"I hate to share, Dr. Quinn. Don't you know that by
now? I... hate... to... share."
"Maybe if you were to go out on the floor
occasionally,
or even weekly like Cindy - "
"Monthly is my limit. They do the work, I get the
money."
And that, Jane thought, is part of the problem.
* * * * * * * * * *
This being a weeknight, it wasn't all systems go at
Cindy Inc., but it was still pretty busy. John tried
to ignore Catherine Zeta-Jones being DP'd to the left
of her and Daniela Pestova giving a hand job to the
right, and strode to the on-floor MC.
"Where's Cindy?" he asked Elle Macpherson.
"She's upstairs, but you CAN'TGOTHROUGH-" and she was
brushed aside as John went upstairs. Or would have
gone
upstairs if he hadn't felt some very strong hands grab
his arms and legs. "Okay pal, the lady said you can't
go upstairs..."
"I discovered her, you big bastard! I'm John
Casablancas!"
"I'm someone who doesn't give a fuck, sir. Cindy only
does one trick a night, and she's booked up so far in
advance you'll be dead before she gets to you."
"What gives her the right to-"
"It's her place, Johnny," Elle pointed out. "If it was
my place, I'd be careful dishing it out as well."
"Of course, you can get on the waiting list...
although she has been known to make some exceptions."
John's eyes lit up. "Exceptions?"
* * * * * * * * * *
Round. Firm. Beautiful. Perfect. And best of all,
there were two of them.
Cindy Crawford lay on her front before the man, her
buns displayed for his inspection. And his hands; he
rubbed them with glee, waiting to see how they'd feel.
For her part, Cindy was relieved that he'd be using
his hands - slippers were fine, but hairbrushes or (as
one of her ladies had been unfortunate to experience)
whips? No thanks.
The man kneaded Cindy's bottom in preparation for his
handiwork, regretting that he didn't have the extra
money for a spot of anal sex ("Cindy Crawford has the
sweetest asshole on the planet IMHO!!!" one
enthusiastic customer had written in the comments
book). "Wonderful," he sighed to himself.
"Thank you..." Cindy answered as she waited for his
hands to stop and start WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Quick as bullets coming from a gun, the gentleman
paddled Cindy's ass as she cried out - it stung, but
it was warm with it. His prick stiffened further at
the sight of the flesh and at how soft and firm it
felt; he laid his hand onto her again and again,
slapping her cheeks and singing along as he did. Cindy
couldn't help but grin as she shouted to him about how
great it was (not really, but it was a living). The
man slapped Cindy's buttocks, now a fetching shade of
crimson, one last time. Like others before him, he
couldn't believe how good they felt. "This, Miss
Crawford, is without a doubt the best $200 I ever
spent," he sighed.
"I'm glad you liked it," Cindy replied. "I try to
please."
"Not just try," he chuckled, kissing his lover and
each rosy, sexy buttock in turn. "I've
already put my name down for another go."
"Maybe your divorce will have come through by then,"
Cindy laughed, as another satisfied customer left. She
stretched out on her luxurious bed and waited for the
feeling in her legs to return, as her phone went off.
She knew it was Elle on the other end, with a problem
no doubt.
"Talk to me."
"Cindy, there's some guy downstairs who wants to talk
about doing a deal with you."
"It's first come, first served."
Elle lowered her voice so he wouldn't hear her. "It's
the Prick."
Cindy's smile vanished. "I can tell him you're not
taking any new orders now if you want," Elle offered.
Cindy was pensive. On the one hand, she was well
within her rights to tell him to go and jump off a
cliff. On the other hand, he WAS a paying customer...
"Send him up, we'll work something out."
Wondering where this masochistic urge had come from,
Elle gave him the go-ahead. And soon Mr. C was inside
Cindy's boudoir, with a far-from-subtle expression of
glee on his face.
"I saw the price list," he announced briskly, "and I
was wondering how much it would be for the whole
works."
"First of all, I'm not going to be with you tonight,"
Cindy said equally briskly, "but I think we can sort
out another arrangement - maybe push you up the
waiting list a bit..."
"No, you don't understand. I want to buy this whole
place. I'm willing to pay whatever you - "
"Get out," Cindy replied. "Now."
"No, hear me out. You owe me big time."
"We did all the work, and you kept taking bits of what
we earned. Now you're looking to take even more of the
ladies' cash? We managed to come to an agreement last
time, but this is MY business." Cindy buzzed in the
security people. "I usually don't ban customers unless
they go too far, but I'm making an exception in your
case. Jim, Victor, escort this gentleman to his car -
he's banned from this place until either hell freezes
over or the Teletubbies sweep the Emmies." She gave
him a cold smile. "And you've got a better chance of
fucking Dipsy than of fucking me."
Hurling fire and brimstone, Casablancas was escorted
out of the building. "Why not go over to Lopez's
place?" Jim suggested. "More your speed."
* * * * * * * * * *
The following night, John was indeed at Lopez's.
Meanwhile, Cindy was with Anna Friel as part of her
night's duty.
Cindy's boudoir was the largest and plushest room in
the place; she liked her customers to have comfort.
The size was also welcome if she was entertaining more
than one person at a time; for instance, if she was in
a daisy chain with Anna Friel and two male punters.
The lovely British actress was a new recruit to the
fold, and had quickly proven to be one of the best of
the bunch - she was also as much of a screamer as
Cindy, which when combined with the enthusiastic men
made for a right racket. Anna was doing her business
in a Liverpool accent as one of the customers had
requested (he was also a Brit and had fallen for her
when she was on "Brookside," and didn't mind that she
was unwilling to play Beth to Cindy's Margaret, and
she was hotly kissing the man in question while the
other gentleman was slurping at her snatch. The first
man, meanwhile, was enjoying the dual pleasure of
kissing Anna while the boss - Cindy - was giving one
of her patented blowjobs.
One reason Cindy limited herself to one gig a night
was that she really threw herself into her work; she
put a lot of effort into her work in general and her
sex in particular, and as she hungrily swallowed the
man's cock while pumping the works with her hands, she
could feel herself starting to sweat. She felt the
first drops of come seeping from the tip - it wouldn't
be long now...
"CHANGE!!!" she shouted as she released the prick and
the man's meat splattered her face. It didn't really
smell that great, but it wasn't her place to criticise
the customers.
"Do you think you could...?" the other man asked as he
squeezed Anna's thighs.
"She told you, not unless you do it to him," Anna
chided. It was a known fact that Cindy had not had sex
with any of the women there (with the exception of
Laetitia Casta), and nor was she going to.
"What if we did?" he asked with a dirty grin, as he
and his mate started to stroke Cindy.
"Well, if you did..." Anna started, and looked at
Cindy.
* * * * * * * * * *
John Casablancas was not a happy camper, meanwhile.
Sex with Jennifer Lopez had not been as great as he
had hoped, and she had refused to give him a refund.
"You should be GLAD you got to put it in me!" she told
him.
"God, I don't know how you manage to keep going," he
grumbled. "When I buy out Cindy Crawford, you'll be
next..."
"Buy her out? You want to take over moley?" Jennifer
said. "Well, why didn't you say so?" She rang the bell
to summon Denise Richards. "When Denise gets here,
she'll see about your refund... I think we might be
able to talk business."
* * * * * * * * * *
The two gentleman punters watched Cindy pushing
Anna's breasts together and kissing them with pure
pleasure. The price they paid for this extra was an
odd one (they weren't used to having penises in thier
mouths), but it was a fair one - and like the other
folks who had previously agreed to this, they all
thought it was worth it. Oh yeah.
Anna had to admit to herself that she wasn't into it
much, but Cindy wasn't noted for unfairness - there
was always a bonus whenever stuff like this was done.
Not that she didn't enjoy Cindy's tongue slowly
leaving a trail down her torso, or Cindy's kisses
gradually sending her cares away.
As the supermodel rubbed her head against the
actress's stomach and fondled her shaved box, Cindy
was
hoping that one day someone might request a menage a
trois with her, the customer and Laetitia - then she
wouldn't feel so guilty about sticking her tongue into
the opening of the lady she was with. But until
then... she dived in. Anna's pussy was a good one - no
wonder the other guy had looked so happy.
Cindy's bobbing head and Anna's pants were making the
customers happy as well; they studied Cindy's grinding
body in total fascination. One of them couldn't
resist; he knelt down and started licking Cindy's
openings below, while the other began to stroke her
thighs. Cindy tried to look as if she wasn't aware,
but Anna could feel her boss's tongue getting more
enthusiastic by the second. For the first time, she
was looking forward to being made to come by a woman
for real...
* * * * * * * * * *
Denise Richards finished counting out the money to a
happier John Casablancas, feeling a tingling in her
butt (Casablancas had agreed to take a reduction if he
could give her a slight spanking). "That never happens
again, understand?" she told him.
"I understand," he lied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I
have a lying bitch to buy out."
"You're going after my boss?" Denise asked hopefully
(several of Jennifer Lopez's workers secretly
preferred Cindy).
Casablancas didn't answer. He had found out Cindy's
full material worth - around $35 million. He knew she
was business-minded; he felt she would be willing to
sell to him. And then there would be a few changes
made around there.
* * * * * * * * * *
The following morning he returned to Cindy, Inc. By
that evening one of them was in for one hell of a
shock... Cindy had gathered all the ladies together
for the occasion of this discussion.
"Well?" Casablancas asked Cindy, as she examined the
cheque. "You'll still be the figurehead boss, of
course - no one wants to see me in a basque. Even I
know that."
"You got that right," Rebecca Romijn-Stamos muttered
under her breath.
"Hmmm.... it is tempting. I think I could actually
have the place for less."
If the Oscar committee had just announced Madonna was
up for Best Actress, her women couldn't have been more
shocked. Mouths dropped agape, drinks were spat out,
the works. But Cindy knew what she was doing. And
Casablancas was chuckling - things were going even
better than he had planned.
"But that depends on what my partners say," Cindy
continued, turning to them. "If I do sell to him,
raise your hands if you'll leave."
Elle Macpherson and Laetitia Casta JUST managed to
beat the others in a race to put their hands up - to
be precise, the only person in the room whose hands
weren't up was also the only person in the room with a
penis.
Cindy crumpled up the cheque and tossed it at his
feet.
"Unless you're willing to go through the whole process
of building up a new team," she told him, "and given
what the ladies here are spreading about you you
wouldn't have much luck even if you did... you and I
have no further business. And by the way, you're no
longer welcome here."
"Well, there's always J-Lo's," he managed to retort as
he flounced out to the relief of all, unaware that
that evening he would also be barred from THAT place
as well - Jennifer Lopez did not care for spanking any
more than Denise Richards did...
* * * * * * * * * *
Cindy Crawford may have been a supermodel, mother and
celebrity bordello owner, but she - like all the other
ladies who served at Cindy Inc. - also had to keep up
her other commitments; the odd magazine shoot here,
appearances to promote stuff there. Even though she
was strictly speaking a retired model, she still kept
herself pretty busy, and still welcomed a chance to
relax at home... whenever she wasn't overseas for some
weeks in a row, she took one night off a week from
thrashing around between silken sheets at $1000 a go,
with instructions that she wasn't to be called in
unless it was an emergency.
She'd received no such calls for the past few weeks,
and it was with not a care in the world that she
relaxed in the bath that Wednesday night. Cindy's mind
was additionally at peace with the knowledge that
Jennifer Love Hewitt was on holiday - JLH was a
favourite with customers and was a total sweetheart,
but it did seem that every time she rang she had bad
news... and there was her phone now. "Talk to me," the
brunette said lazily after picking it up with one
soapy hand.
"Did I wake you up?" asked Liv Tyler, who was
co-running the place that night.
"No, just having a bath... any problems?"
"Not really - the band's a few minutes late but
they'll be here, Beyonce's dad wants another cut of
her commission, and someone wants a four way with
Ashley Harkleroad and the Williams sisters."
"Rande wants a three way with me and Ashley as
well..." Cindy laughed, before realising what Liv had
said. "The Williams sisters?"
"Yep, and he's not leaving until he gets it.
Satisfaction guaranteed and all that."
Cindy started to sluice the bubble bath off her body,
sighing as she prepared to go down to Cindy Inc.
Getting him what he wanted would be rough, since Venus
worked for Cindy, Serena worked for Jennifer Lopez,
and Ashley was still dithering between the two...
supermodel, mother and celebrity bordello owner. The
conduct of the characters is not meant to represent
how they actually are; the events are fictional and
not meant for under 18s. Any comments to go to
cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk or the message boards.
This story was first written for my Cindy And Laetitia
Stories Yahoo! Club, explaining its relative
shortness, and was there in slightly different form
(Cindy's rival in the "pilot" ["Recruitment"] and a
couple of the early non-CSSA stories was originally
Anna Nicole Smith; it's been rewritten here to bring
it in line with the series, but otherwise it's as it
was originally - except for the spanking). And as you
may have guessed, I'm not a big admirer of John "Me me
me" Casablancas. Unsurprisingly, he's mates with Naomi
Campbell...
* * * * * * * * * *
"Are you sure you want to go there, sir?" asked
John Casablancas' chauffeur.
"Yes, very sure," said the head of Elite. "I might as
well pay one of my protegees a visit."
"Yes, sir," the chauffeur said instead of "Oh for
God's sake man, you didn't CREATE her!" or words to
that effect going through his head. Like most of
Cindy's (and other models') fans, he was sick and
tired of his boss telling everyone under the sun that
they wouldn't have made it if it hadn't been for him,
but as long as he was driving for the big-headed fat
fucker he had no option but to keep his mouth shut.
"Unless she's banned me?" he asked.
"No - no one's banned without doing something first.
Not even her dad."
"Avaricious little bitch," Casablancas chuckled.
"Still, I think it's time she paid me back for all I
did for her..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"Oh for the love of God SHUT UP!"
This wasn't the chauffeur, and nor was it Cindy. It
was Jennifer Lopez, who had had it with hearing about
how much better Cindy was doing than Jennifer's place,
J-Lo's (that "Access Hollywood" bit was the last
straw). Jennifer hurled a rock at the set to "switch
it off" permanently.
"That's the third one this week, Annie," Jane Seymour
chided.
"Like I give a fuck?" Jennifer snarled. "I know we're
doing good business but everyone always says Cindy's
better..." she gritted her teeth and felt a little
ground tooth fall away before continuing. "There has
to be a way to get her out of the business."
"You know, this town IS big enough for the two of
you," Jane pointed out.
"I hate to share, Dr. Quinn. Don't you know that by
now? I... hate... to... share."
"Maybe if you were to go out on the floor
occasionally,
or even weekly like Cindy - "
"Monthly is my limit. They do the work, I get the
money."
And that, Jane thought, is part of the problem.
* * * * * * * * * *
This being a weeknight, it wasn't all systems go at
Cindy Inc., but it was still pretty busy. John tried
to ignore Catherine Zeta-Jones being DP'd to the left
of her and Daniela Pestova giving a hand job to the
right, and strode to the on-floor MC.
"Where's Cindy?" he asked Elle Macpherson.
"She's upstairs, but you CAN'TGOTHROUGH-" and she was
brushed aside as John went upstairs. Or would have
gone
upstairs if he hadn't felt some very strong hands grab
his arms and legs. "Okay pal, the lady said you can't
go upstairs..."
"I discovered her, you big bastard! I'm John
Casablancas!"
"I'm someone who doesn't give a fuck, sir. Cindy only
does one trick a night, and she's booked up so far in
advance you'll be dead before she gets to you."
"What gives her the right to-"
"It's her place, Johnny," Elle pointed out. "If it was
my place, I'd be careful dishing it out as well."
"Of course, you can get on the waiting list...
although she has been known to make some exceptions."
John's eyes lit up. "Exceptions?"
* * * * * * * * * *
Round. Firm. Beautiful. Perfect. And best of all,
there were two of them.
Cindy Crawford lay on her front before the man, her
buns displayed for his inspection. And his hands; he
rubbed them with glee, waiting to see how they'd feel.
For her part, Cindy was relieved that he'd be using
his hands - slippers were fine, but hairbrushes or (as
one of her ladies had been unfortunate to experience)
whips? No thanks.
The man kneaded Cindy's bottom in preparation for his
handiwork, regretting that he didn't have the extra
money for a spot of anal sex ("Cindy Crawford has the
sweetest asshole on the planet IMHO!!!" one
enthusiastic customer had written in the comments
book). "Wonderful," he sighed to himself.
"Thank you..." Cindy answered as she waited for his
hands to stop and start WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Quick as bullets coming from a gun, the gentleman
paddled Cindy's ass as she cried out - it stung, but
it was warm with it. His prick stiffened further at
the sight of the flesh and at how soft and firm it
felt; he laid his hand onto her again and again,
slapping her cheeks and singing along as he did. Cindy
couldn't help but grin as she shouted to him about how
great it was (not really, but it was a living). The
man slapped Cindy's buttocks, now a fetching shade of
crimson, one last time. Like others before him, he
couldn't believe how good they felt. "This, Miss
Crawford, is without a doubt the best $200 I ever
spent," he sighed.
"I'm glad you liked it," Cindy replied. "I try to
please."
"Not just try," he chuckled, kissing his lover and
each rosy, sexy buttock in turn. "I've
already put my name down for another go."
"Maybe your divorce will have come through by then,"
Cindy laughed, as another satisfied customer left. She
stretched out on her luxurious bed and waited for the
feeling in her legs to return, as her phone went off.
She knew it was Elle on the other end, with a problem
no doubt.
"Talk to me."
"Cindy, there's some guy downstairs who wants to talk
about doing a deal with you."
"It's first come, first served."
Elle lowered her voice so he wouldn't hear her. "It's
the Prick."
Cindy's smile vanished. "I can tell him you're not
taking any new orders now if you want," Elle offered.
Cindy was pensive. On the one hand, she was well
within her rights to tell him to go and jump off a
cliff. On the other hand, he WAS a paying customer...
"Send him up, we'll work something out."
Wondering where this masochistic urge had come from,
Elle gave him the go-ahead. And soon Mr. C was inside
Cindy's boudoir, with a far-from-subtle expression of
glee on his face.
"I saw the price list," he announced briskly, "and I
was wondering how much it would be for the whole
works."
"First of all, I'm not going to be with you tonight,"
Cindy said equally briskly, "but I think we can sort
out another arrangement - maybe push you up the
waiting list a bit..."
"No, you don't understand. I want to buy this whole
place. I'm willing to pay whatever you - "
"Get out," Cindy replied. "Now."
"No, hear me out. You owe me big time."
"We did all the work, and you kept taking bits of what
we earned. Now you're looking to take even more of the
ladies' cash? We managed to come to an agreement last
time, but this is MY business." Cindy buzzed in the
security people. "I usually don't ban customers unless
they go too far, but I'm making an exception in your
case. Jim, Victor, escort this gentleman to his car -
he's banned from this place until either hell freezes
over or the Teletubbies sweep the Emmies." She gave
him a cold smile. "And you've got a better chance of
fucking Dipsy than of fucking me."
Hurling fire and brimstone, Casablancas was escorted
out of the building. "Why not go over to Lopez's
place?" Jim suggested. "More your speed."
* * * * * * * * * *
The following night, John was indeed at Lopez's.
Meanwhile, Cindy was with Anna Friel as part of her
night's duty.
Cindy's boudoir was the largest and plushest room in
the place; she liked her customers to have comfort.
The size was also welcome if she was entertaining more
than one person at a time; for instance, if she was in
a daisy chain with Anna Friel and two male punters.
The lovely British actress was a new recruit to the
fold, and had quickly proven to be one of the best of
the bunch - she was also as much of a screamer as
Cindy, which when combined with the enthusiastic men
made for a right racket. Anna was doing her business
in a Liverpool accent as one of the customers had
requested (he was also a Brit and had fallen for her
when she was on "Brookside," and didn't mind that she
was unwilling to play Beth to Cindy's Margaret, and
she was hotly kissing the man in question while the
other gentleman was slurping at her snatch. The first
man, meanwhile, was enjoying the dual pleasure of
kissing Anna while the boss - Cindy - was giving one
of her patented blowjobs.
One reason Cindy limited herself to one gig a night
was that she really threw herself into her work; she
put a lot of effort into her work in general and her
sex in particular, and as she hungrily swallowed the
man's cock while pumping the works with her hands, she
could feel herself starting to sweat. She felt the
first drops of come seeping from the tip - it wouldn't
be long now...
"CHANGE!!!" she shouted as she released the prick and
the man's meat splattered her face. It didn't really
smell that great, but it wasn't her place to criticise
the customers.
"Do you think you could...?" the other man asked as he
squeezed Anna's thighs.
"She told you, not unless you do it to him," Anna
chided. It was a known fact that Cindy had not had sex
with any of the women there (with the exception of
Laetitia Casta), and nor was she going to.
"What if we did?" he asked with a dirty grin, as he
and his mate started to stroke Cindy.
"Well, if you did..." Anna started, and looked at
Cindy.
* * * * * * * * * *
John Casablancas was not a happy camper, meanwhile.
Sex with Jennifer Lopez had not been as great as he
had hoped, and she had refused to give him a refund.
"You should be GLAD you got to put it in me!" she told
him.
"God, I don't know how you manage to keep going," he
grumbled. "When I buy out Cindy Crawford, you'll be
next..."
"Buy her out? You want to take over moley?" Jennifer
said. "Well, why didn't you say so?" She rang the bell
to summon Denise Richards. "When Denise gets here,
she'll see about your refund... I think we might be
able to talk business."
* * * * * * * * * *
The two gentleman punters watched Cindy pushing
Anna's breasts together and kissing them with pure
pleasure. The price they paid for this extra was an
odd one (they weren't used to having penises in thier
mouths), but it was a fair one - and like the other
folks who had previously agreed to this, they all
thought it was worth it. Oh yeah.
Anna had to admit to herself that she wasn't into it
much, but Cindy wasn't noted for unfairness - there
was always a bonus whenever stuff like this was done.
Not that she didn't enjoy Cindy's tongue slowly
leaving a trail down her torso, or Cindy's kisses
gradually sending her cares away.
As the supermodel rubbed her head against the
actress's stomach and fondled her shaved box, Cindy
was
hoping that one day someone might request a menage a
trois with her, the customer and Laetitia - then she
wouldn't feel so guilty about sticking her tongue into
the opening of the lady she was with. But until
then... she dived in. Anna's pussy was a good one - no
wonder the other guy had looked so happy.
Cindy's bobbing head and Anna's pants were making the
customers happy as well; they studied Cindy's grinding
body in total fascination. One of them couldn't
resist; he knelt down and started licking Cindy's
openings below, while the other began to stroke her
thighs. Cindy tried to look as if she wasn't aware,
but Anna could feel her boss's tongue getting more
enthusiastic by the second. For the first time, she
was looking forward to being made to come by a woman
for real...
* * * * * * * * * *
Denise Richards finished counting out the money to a
happier John Casablancas, feeling a tingling in her
butt (Casablancas had agreed to take a reduction if he
could give her a slight spanking). "That never happens
again, understand?" she told him.
"I understand," he lied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I
have a lying bitch to buy out."
"You're going after my boss?" Denise asked hopefully
(several of Jennifer Lopez's workers secretly
preferred Cindy).
Casablancas didn't answer. He had found out Cindy's
full material worth - around $35 million. He knew she
was business-minded; he felt she would be willing to
sell to him. And then there would be a few changes
made around there.
* * * * * * * * * *
The following morning he returned to Cindy, Inc. By
that evening one of them was in for one hell of a
shock... Cindy had gathered all the ladies together
for the occasion of this discussion.
"Well?" Casablancas asked Cindy, as she examined the
cheque. "You'll still be the figurehead boss, of
course - no one wants to see me in a basque. Even I
know that."
"You got that right," Rebecca Romijn-Stamos muttered
under her breath.
"Hmmm.... it is tempting. I think I could actually
have the place for less."
If the Oscar committee had just announced Madonna was
up for Best Actress, her women couldn't have been more
shocked. Mouths dropped agape, drinks were spat out,
the works. But Cindy knew what she was doing. And
Casablancas was chuckling - things were going even
better than he had planned.
"But that depends on what my partners say," Cindy
continued, turning to them. "If I do sell to him,
raise your hands if you'll leave."
Elle Macpherson and Laetitia Casta JUST managed to
beat the others in a race to put their hands up - to
be precise, the only person in the room whose hands
weren't up was also the only person in the room with a
penis.
Cindy crumpled up the cheque and tossed it at his
feet.
"Unless you're willing to go through the whole process
of building up a new team," she told him, "and given
what the ladies here are spreading about you you
wouldn't have much luck even if you did... you and I
have no further business. And by the way, you're no
longer welcome here."
"Well, there's always J-Lo's," he managed to retort as
he flounced out to the relief of all, unaware that
that evening he would also be barred from THAT place
as well - Jennifer Lopez did not care for spanking any
more than Denise Richards did...
* * * * * * * * * *
Cindy Crawford may have been a supermodel, mother and
celebrity bordello owner, but she - like all the other
ladies who served at Cindy Inc. - also had to keep up
her other commitments; the odd magazine shoot here,
appearances to promote stuff there. Even though she
was strictly speaking a retired model, she still kept
herself pretty busy, and still welcomed a chance to
relax at home... whenever she wasn't overseas for some
weeks in a row, she took one night off a week from
thrashing around between silken sheets at $1000 a go,
with instructions that she wasn't to be called in
unless it was an emergency.
She'd received no such calls for the past few weeks,
and it was with not a care in the world that she
relaxed in the bath that Wednesday night. Cindy's mind
was additionally at peace with the knowledge that
Jennifer Love Hewitt was on holiday - JLH was a
favourite with customers and was a total sweetheart,
but it did seem that every time she rang she had bad
news... and there was her phone now. "Talk to me," the
brunette said lazily after picking it up with one
soapy hand.
"Did I wake you up?" asked Liv Tyler, who was
co-running the place that night.
"No, just having a bath... any problems?"
"Not really - the band's a few minutes late but
they'll be here, Beyonce's dad wants another cut of
her commission, and someone wants a four way with
Ashley Harkleroad and the Williams sisters."
"Rande wants a three way with me and Ashley as
well..." Cindy laughed, before realising what Liv had
said. "The Williams sisters?"
"Yep, and he's not leaving until he gets it.
Satisfaction guaranteed and all that."
Cindy started to sluice the bubble bath off her body,
sighing as she prepared to go down to Cindy Inc.
Getting him what he wanted would be rough, since Venus
worked for Cindy, Serena worked for Jennifer Lopez,
and Ashley was still dithering between the two...