Cindy Inc.: The Dollhouse, Part 4

For those who came in late: Cindy Crawford and several
of her ladies have had their tourism layout job in
Barbados hijacked by a group backed by a consortium of
female celebs led by Madonna, who plan to take over
both Cindy Inc. and J-Lo’s and launch their own
celebrity whorehouse in international waters called
the Dollhouse, with unwitting help from Kelly Brook.
Now all the women (except one) are in danger thanks to
a spot of mind control, and Cindy’s been forced to
munch on her (until now) most hated enemy. Now read
on… (And if your celeb here doesn’t get any sex, I
promise they all will by the end.)

All feedback
to cindylover1969@yahoo.co.uk (and
apologies in advance to Brooke Burke fans, but the
story isn’t over yet)

* * * * * * * * * *

“Do me, Cindy! Do me!” Anna Nicole Smith begged.

“You’ll all get your turns,” Madonna promised as
Cindy, still weeping, finished the job. “Now say ‘Hi,
I’m Cindy Crawford.’”

“Hi, I’m Cindy Crawford – ” and that was as far as she
got before she couldn’t speak any more, on account of
the weight of a furious Jennifer Lopez on top of her,
clawing away at her.

“Oh, did I mention I programmed her to go ballistic
every time you said that?” Maddie added. “There is a
code phrase that switches the commands off, and it’s
connected to her. Good luck finding it. Let’s go,
ladies; the last of Cindy’s ladies should be arriving
soon.”

One by one the other women filed out, with the cries
and yells of Cindy as she struggled with the fiery
Lopez roundly ignored. Christina Aguilera stopped to
give La Crawford the finger as she left last, and then
Cindy’s eyes exploded as Jennifer punched her in them.
Cindy hit back, scratching at her enemy while her mind
went racing through everything she knew about her
opponent. A code phrase connected to her… as
Jennifer tugged on her breasts and tried to bite,
Cindy shouted the first thing that came to mind. But
while there were some women whose hearts would have
stopped at the mention of “Ben Affleck!” this time it
didn’t work.

“Puff Daddy!” Cindy panted. Nothing, just a quick
volley of blows to the sternum. Cindy managed to
wriggle away, but Jennifer grabbed one of her arms and
clutched her by the waist, and began to grip tightly.
“Ja Rule! If You Had My Love! The Bronx! On The 6!
Waiting For Tonight!” Cindy continued shouting one
Lopez-related thing after another as she was crushed
to the ground. God, this woman had a big ass, and it
was pinning her down…

Feeling the air vanishing, Cindy tried and tried to
turn her head enough, at the same time grunting more
potential code words – “The Cell! Versace! Selena!
U-Turn! Extortionate demands on TV shows! Ahh… oh
God help me remember… ”

She could see the meat of Jennifer’s ass now… if she
stretched up a bit… “Money Train! The Wedding
Planner! The Fly Girls! ANACONDA!!!!’” screamed Cindy
as she took a deep bite.

Then it was Jennifer Lopez’s turn to scream; Cindy’s
teeth were sharp and they had drawn blood. She had to
leap off the supermodel; Jennifer tripped over herself
as she did and landed on the floor as Cindy, with the
upper hand at last, unfurled herself and started to go
for her – and noticed a new look in her rival’s eyes.
Where there had been programmed rage, now there was
confusion, disorientation, genuine shock. Cindy had
found the code word.

“Where the hell am I?” Jennifer asked Cindy. “Who did
that to you? And why does my ass hurt?”

“We’re on a yacht floating off Barbados, you, and I
bit you – in order,” Cindy explained. “And much as I
hate to say this, you and I are on the same team this
time…”

* * * * * * * * * *

The police car was speeding up a driveway, and Mariah
had long since given up trying to escape, helped no
end by her being handcuffed. She could tell she had
been tricked; what she didn’t know was where she was
going.

“Don’t worry, Miss Carey,” the “officer” assured her,
“we’re nearly there.” Mariah felt that gave her all
the more reason to BE worried, but didn’t say
anything. The car stopped just outside a large
plantation house, and she was escorted out of it by
the driver. Although it was a very hot afternoon, her
temperature soon got a little higher when she saw the
man who was waiting for her.

“Please allow me to introduce myself,” said the
hotelier.

“You’re a man of wealth and taste? I kinda figured
that,” Mariah told him. “And I know who you are – we
don’t forget THAT easily. You were one of the
customers I was with a few days ago.”

“That’s right,” the hotelier assured her. “Now go
inside and have a rest.”

“Well, I AM pretty tired,” Mariah admitted. She walked
away, the driver and the hotelier watching her butt
wiggling.

“You could have taken her right now,” the driver
laughed.

“I don’t like to fuck outdoors,” the hotelier pointed
out. “When’s the helicopter coming?”

“In about half an hour. Time for a drink. And maybe
some of that sweet Carey pussy as a chaser?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Jennifer Love Hewitt had been waiting in there for
hours. Days, it seemed. And still nothing. She was
blessing the Internet, however; she had had a little
thrill finding some porn stories about herself on some
story site (she made a note to tell the boss when they
got back), and now she was engrossed in picture sites
featuring guys. Thank God for a lack of net nannies.

She stroked the computer screen – or rather the
muscled bodies and massive cocks of the guys on the
computer screen. Why was it that when the action was
guy/guy or girl/girl there were hardly ever any ugly
ones, but when it was guy/girl at least one
participant (and usually not the girl) was gross?
Jennifer clicked from one shot to the next, her
troubles forgotten as she enjoyed the visions of
beautiful men fucking. For an instant she considered
suggesting to Cindy that they sign up some guys…
nah. Small breasts were less of a bother than small
penises. She licked an image of one particularly
pleasing spread-shot with all the best bits (thick
rod, balls, open buns) laid out as she started to play
with herself.

“Why can’t I get a man like that?” JLH pouted as she
rubbed her head against the screen, feeling herself
get ever wetter as she fondled her little quim, poking
herself as deep as possible and running fingers
through her silky brown cunthairs. Imagining herself
as the only woman amongst all those gorgeous hunks,
she closed her eyes…

BEEP – BEEP – BEEP

“Ah, shit…” Jennifer grumbled, opening them again
and reluctantly using her free hand to get the mobile.
It had better be important – she never liked being
interrupted while fantasising. “Hello?”

“Hi! Jessica here – Cindy just buzzed us and she’s all
right; she found out where the ladies are and what’s
going on…”

Jennifer whooped. “Okay, so where are you now?”

“Can you get a taxi to Island Hoppers? I’ll meet you
there and we can go directly to Cindy.”

“I’m on my way! You just made my day a lot brighter,
Alba!”

As Jennifer Love Hewitt hung up, Jessica Alba switched
off the mobile and nodded to Kenrick. “Like she said,
I’ll meet her there.” She sprang up and, pausing only
to glare at him as he patted her butt, was out the
door.

Kenrick and Halle studied the unconscious and gagged
Brooke. “It’ll be a while before they get back; I need
something to pass the time. Halle, do me a favour and
go down on sleeping beauty here,” Kenrick suggested,
and she began to unzip Brooke’s jeans.

* * * * * * * * * *

“They fixed it all,” Liv told Sofia in a low voice.

“Who?”

“The women on the yacht. It’s all coming back now…”

“Liv? Are you awake?”

Liv was still slumbering between the two men she had
been fucking when the door opened. Her eyes half shut,
she nodded as the blonde woman came closer.

“Listen to me, Liv,” murmured Kylie. “In a few
minutes, you’re going to get up, and go over the side
of the yacht. It’s close enough to the shore so you’ll
be able to swim to safety, but not close enough for
anyone to spot us. When you’re found, you’ll tell them
a name to put people on the wrong scent: Jennifer Love
Hewitt. Do you understand?”

“Yes…” Liv said. “Jennifer Love Hewitt.”

“Good,” the toothy Australian chanteuse nodded. “And
one more thing…”

Sofia’s eyes widened as Liv told her that Kylie had
also instructed her to make love to the first one of
her colleagues who greeted her. “That must be why I
responded so well,” she said slowly. “They must have
dosed me too. You’re very good-looking, but not
usually my type.”

“Well, at least we’re safe here for the moment.
What… where’s that officer gone?”

“Liv, we’re not going anywhere.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Hello?… Yes, I’m the officer with those two celebs
caught fucking at QEH… I’ve got a hot tip for
you…”

* * * * * * * * * *

Mariah Carey’s ass is considered by fans to be one of
the best, most erotic parts of her body. At this time
it was being stretched apart by Walker, the hotelier,
in the main room of the house. It was a pleasure for
both of them; Walker because this was actually the
first time he had ever put his cock up someone’s
butthole, Mariah because she loved getting it back
there. She was proud of her behind, and when a man
enjoyed it as much as she did…

Walker ground himself as far into Mariah’s ass as he
could, digging his manicured fingers into the two
meaty cheeks. He had jerked off to shots of her for
years, and now actually having those creamy, perfectly
round globes around his hard cock made everything
worthwhile. The room was silent except for their
grunts and pants; he slapped Mariah’s cheeks again,
noting with delight the small red spots glowing. She
wiggled her butt to and fro as the hotelier’s rod
massaged her anus; Walker licked his lips remembering
how he had treated her asshole like a pussy a few
moments before. And best of all, he wouldn’t leave her
with a kid when he…

He… Mariah started to scream, arching her wonderful
body backwards and forwards as Walker increased his
pumping, pounding her back door eagerly as he felt
himself finally about to put something in the area
normally for exits. “Mariah – if I could die right
now, this sweet butt’ll mean I’m going happy…” he
grunted, clutching her rump as he emptied his come
into her opening.

Watching on a monitor aboard the ‘Maverick,’ the woman
who had paid him off earlier shook her head, and
pressed a button on a table next to her. This would be
a problem.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the rec room, Kelly Rowland flung aside her cards,
stood up and launched into song, peeling off the last
of her clothes as she did so.

“Nothing like a good loser,” Kylie Minogue chuckled,
who herself was almost down to nothing in this game of
strip poker. Anastacia was also wearing very little,
and Jennifer Garner wasn’t wearing anything above the
waist; only Christina Milian and Naomi Campbell were
relatively dressed. The men with them, of course, were
fully dressed (“Is this game rigged?” Anastacia had
asked. “Yes,” said one. “Okay…” she laughed as she
pulled off her trousers – for a short person she had
beautiful legs… then again, that’s no real surprise
after Britney, Jessica Alba, Kylie etc. All midgets,
all nicely gifted in the leg department).

“It’s all in the game…” Kelly finished, as she stood
there completely naked, doing a little twirl so
everyone could see everything. Toned and dark, with a
really lovely line bisecting her hard stomach, Kelly
fondled her perky little breasts as she faced the
others. “I guess it’s time for the poking…”

“Ain’t it the truth,” one of the men agreed, his eyes
fixed on Kelly’s trimmed pussy.

“Who wants to go first?” she asked, advancing towards
him. “Or do you want to wait until they’re all naked?
I know someone here wants to see Naomi’s buns.”

“Fuck HER – give me Anastacia!”

“Okay, one more hand… boys against girls,” Jennifer
suggested. “Winner takes all. Christina’ll play for
us. Kelly, you deal.”

Kelly dealt out the cards, feeling the players
stroking her legs as she did. “Okay… put ‘em up.”

Christina Milian looked at her cards, and flung them
away in disgust, followed by her remaining clothes.
Kylie was next, and Naomi “reluctantly” followed suit.
Soon all the women in the room were in the buff, and
all the men… weren’t. They had, however, unzipped
their trousers so their cocks could poke out; their
“dolls” had agreed to be banged while the men stayed
dressed. The ladies each took a man, sitting on their
laps and with the cocks within touching distance,
except for Naomi; her long, sinuous body had planted
itself directly onto the prick of her chosen
conqueror, so he had a bigger look of shock on his
face than the others. She wriggled about on his lap,
her haughty face softening for a moment.

“Musical fucks, honey?” she asked, taking his hands
and putting them on her small breasts.

“Musical fucks,” he agreed.

Naomi started to twist around his prick inside her;
Kelly Rowland opened wide and consumed the cock of her
ride; Christina enveloped her guy in her arms and they
began to grind; Anastacia clamped her man’s prick
between her powerful jugs and began to thrust it back
and forth; Kylie Minogue placed her famed bottom
cheeks around her guy’s cock and did likewise; and
Jennifer Garner sat on her fellow’s shoulders,
smothering him with her lovely chestnut cunt. Music,
Christina Milian’s “From AM to PM” filled the room as
they got busy.

“When it gets to the chorus…” Naomi managed to say
as she bounced her lovely ass up and down on her guy’s
lap, “everybody changes to the next one; if he hasn’t
come, he’s OUTTTT!!!!!” She screamed as she felt the
hot iron inside her cunt explode; she was filled with
what she secretly hoped would be a little girl.

Kelly Rowland had also been successful; her greedy
sucking of her target (Destiny’s Child were less
unwilling to entertain male groupies than their
interviews suggested; many were the fans who had
visited the openings of Kelly, Michelle and Beyonce)
had caused his juice to flood her mouth. Ironically,
Christina had been less successful; her man sadly got
up, giving her a final kiss, and they swapped.
Christina now had to sit and wait until the game ended
(the winner got to bang all the ladies), and changed
the music to one of Kylie’s, wincing as “Spinning
Around” started – Paula Abdul was a nice lady but a
shit songwriter. “The next time around, I’m putting
‘Play’ on,” she vowed.

The man who had been wanked by Anastacia’s tits now
found himself in front of Kelly. “I don’t think mine
are really up for what Anastacia did,” Kelly admitted
as Kylie (record version) told everyone to move out of
her way. “How about a Naomi?”

“Um… how about a hand job?” Ryan suggested, as the
groans next to him grew. “It would be better for me.”

* * * * * * * * * *

“Yummy yummy yummy, I’ve got love in my tummy…”
Jennifer Love Hewitt sang to herself as she made her
way towards the helicopter terminal. She had learned
that song from a client who insisted on playing it
each time he was with her (he said it added something
each time he “ate” her). Oh well, it could have been
worse – he could have been a James Taylor fan.

“…and I feel like loving yooo-ouuu…”

“Why thanks, JLH,” Jessica Alba replied, “but maybe
later.”

“Oh sorry,” she giggled. “I was just thinking about
this song and – ”

“Hey, no foul. Come on, we’ve got to get to the
‘Maverick,’” Jessica continued as the two got on the
chopper, and she nodded to the pilot. “Thanks for
waiting.”

“Anything for two gorgeous ladies,” the pilot replied.
“We’ll be there in about half an hour.”

“Too bad I didn’t bring my camera,” JLH said as they
took to the air.

“Yeah, you’ll be even more sorry when we get to the
ship,” Jessica continued, as she slowly removed a
little cylinder from her shirt pocket, the one Kenrick
had given her just before she left.

Studying the Barbadian landscape moving underneath
them, Jennifer Love Hewitt loved how green and
pleasant it was. If this wasn’t a trip to the
‘Maverick’…

“Wait a minute, Jessie. Cindy knew I was waiting back
at the hotel, right? So… why didn’t she call back
there first before buzzing you? In fact, why didn’t
she call at all?”

“She’s on a boat way out to sea, Hewitt!” Jessica
pointed out. “The farther out you go the further out
of range mobiles are, so she couldn’t…” Then she saw
the look in Jennifer’s eyes.

“Ah, fuck it,” Jessica sighed, and brought up the
needle filled with the drug rapidly. JLH felt the tip
of it touch her skin and pulled back just before it
could pierce through, and grabbed Jessica’s hand.

“Don’t fight it, JLH!” Miss Alba shouted as she tried
to inject her. “It’s not gonna kill you! You’ll just
be working with us!”

“I don’t WANT to work with you like this!” the bosomy
actress/singer yelled, as she fought back. The two
women rocked back and forth in the seats as the pilot
tried to keep the chopper steady and ignore the
scuffling behind him – a fight that ended with a
scream that soon tailed off as the drugs took effect.
Then nothing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kelly Brook set down her knife and fork and smiled at
the nurse, who had entered just as she finished
breakfast. “That’s what I like to see,” the nurse said
approvingly. “You’re coming along nicely.”

“I just want to be out of here,” Kelly told her as the
tray was removed.

“You’ve got a lot of fans down there,” the nurse
added. “All wanting to know about this whole
‘Cindygate’ thing. I don’t think she’s as bad as all
that, though – she was the one who signed you in here
after all.”

Kelly was wondering who had put her here; but all she
wanted to do was call her family and Jason, let them
know she was okay… and NO reporters. Not yet -

“Let me in, please! I’ve got to talk to her… my
editor’s creaming for the inside story…” The two
women in the room glared at the door cracking open, as
the reporter on the other side tried to squeeze by the
guards. “Kelly, is it true that you’ve been – ” was
all he managed to say before the door was slammed
shut, and shouts of “LET ME GO! This is harassment!
The public has a right to know…” receded into the
distance.

The nurse shook her head. “Vultures,” she muttered.
“You get some rest now, miss.”

“Um… Nurse?” Kelly said thoughtfully. “I’ve got a
message I’d like you to give them.”

“You want me to tell them to piss off? Believe me,
most of us feel the same way…”

“No – tell them I’ll talk to them when I get out of
here. I’ll meet them at my hotel in about two or three
days and give a statement to them all at once, blood
oath.”

The nurse nodded and left, as Kelly went over what was
waiting in her mind. She needed something to get
herself off it; where was Jason? Why hadn’t he come to
see her yet?

* * * * * * * * * *

The “Maverick” had three helicopters for its own use
on the island, but only one could land at a time. The
one carrying Kenrick, Halle Berry and Brooke Burke had
arrived previously, and Halle was being reintroduced
to the other ladies. Brooke, on the other hand, was
being ferried to the private lounge of Anna Nicole
Smith – “She has a little proposition for you,” one of
the underlings had explained. “Madonna said it was
okay.”

“Why does it matter what she thinks?” Brooke asked.
“Does she own this place or something?”

“Yes.” Brooke had shut up, and now found herself
waiting for Anna Nicole to finish her ablutions. The
Texan was singing while she freshened up, and Brooke
didn’t like those sounds either. Finally the toilet
flushed and the massively structured blonde came out,
beaming like a politician and with almost as much
sincerity.

“Brookie!” she squealed. “Glad you’re here and intact
- you ARE intact, right? Haven’t been fucked by anyone
over at Cindy Incorporated lately?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“Well, it IS my business,” Anna continued, setting her
big and bouncy backside down opposite the slim
brunette. “Lemme explain how it works…” And ignoring
Brooke’s eye-rolling, she did so.

“…so basically of all the fillies of Cindy C’s that
are around here, you’re pretty much the only one who
we can’t play with,” Anna finished. “That was my
idea.”

“Why?” Brooke asked.

Anna laughed. “We’re SISTERS, Brookie! You’ve got
“Rank,” I’ve got my own show on E! too – I couldn’t
hurt a fellow worker. So here’s the deal; you be my
slave, and I make sure any guy puts his two-incher in
your holes isn’t drugged up. See, I’ve always wanted
someone who I can boss around…”

“Well, that lets me out,” Brooke interrupted.

“Look, you don’t understand – I can make things very
easy here for you… or very, very hard.”

“Is that a fact.” Brooke fell silent for a moment as
Anna studied her.

“All right,” she said.

“Shake on it,” Anna Nicole breathed. “And just in case
you’re thinking ‘Yeah OK I’ll play along and when I
get out of here I’ll blow the whole thing wide open
with all the inside stuff,’ let me get one thing
clear. You are NEVER leaving this place. I know some
guys who want your ass, but I’ve really got it.”

Anna sounded, for once, as if she was very clear.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jennifer Lopez stared at Cindy Crawford in disbelief
as the moled angel finished her tale. “I knew that old
witch would try something like this,” she said,
shaking her head. “Should have punched her when I had
the chance instead of letting her in – ”

“You let her in at your place?” Cindy interrupted. “I
was wondering how they got to you.”

“Oh yeah,” J-Lo continued, regretting it. “It was just
after I gave Haguilera her walking papers. Maddie came
swanning by, gave me the whole speech about wanting to
let bygones be bygones, how about a quick one, a
million dollars on the spot… if she hadn’t paid in
cash I would never have done it.”

Cindy’s nose wrinkled. “You mean you and MADONNA? What
were you THINKING?!”

“I know, I know… if she’s got this drug you’re on
about, she must have done it to me while she was
sticking her tongue in my snatch. When I get my hands
on Hitler in drag – ”

“Madonna thought you were pretty poor that night,”
Kylie Minogue interrupted. “She’s looking forward to
seeing if Cindy Crawford’s any better.”

“You tell her the day I agree to fuck Mrs. Ritchie
will be the day we’re up for Best Actress Oscars,”
Cindy retorted.

“In a few minutes you’ll be able to tell her
yourself,” Danni Ashe, who had accompanied Kylie to
get them, added. “Madonna’s rounding up most of the
rest of your girls – Liv Tyler and that South American
girl with the big tits are still in jail and we can’t
touch them yet…”

“And then she’ll go for you,” Cindy suggested.

The others (including J-Lo) looked at Cindy in
surprise.

“Think about it,” Cindy pleaded. “When was the last
time Madonna let herself play second fiddle to ANYONE?
She always has to focus everything on herself – you
think she’s really going to let the others have a say
once this Dollhouse thing is open to the public?
Especially you, Danni – you’re basically a porn star,
not even mainstream like Jaws 5 here.”

“I resent that!” Kylie shouted.

“Listen to me,” Cindy continued, ignoring Kylie.
“Think it over – Madonna’s not going to share…”

“It wasn’t like you or Lopez were eager to sign up
porn ladies,” Danni answered quietly, and withdrew.

As the door shut, Cindy was silent. Much as she hated
to admit it, Danni Ashe had a point; she had been
firmly mainstream all the way. And from time to time
some people HAD asked about Playmates, porno
actresses, etc… but Cindy had never actually
approached any of them or even considered it. Yet some
of them did have a fame in some circles. And it wasn’t
like she herself hadn’t posed nude in “Playboy,” for
instance.

She might have looked down on Jennifer Lopez for
signing up L’il Kim, but maybe it was time for her to
lower herself a bit. Never mind the expanded audience,
it might just be the right thing to do.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Welcome to the Dollhouse, ladies,” said Madonna with
as sincere a smile as she could muster. Jessica Alba
and Jennifer Love Hewitt had been taken off the
helicopter and brought to her sanctum.

“We’re glad to be here,” JLH replied.

“I see my ladies did their work,” Madonna said
approvingly. “It’ll be much easier. Take your clothes
off.”

Unhesitatingly, the young actresses disrobed quickly
and eagerly. Madonna’s greedy grin widened, displaying
her gold tooth. No wonder they made so many guys rise
to attention; everything pert and ready. “Excellent,”
said the Material Fortysomething. “Now I have a couple
of people I want you to meet. Come in, please…”

Naomi and Christina Aguilera strode in on Maddie’s
command, and with a nod from the boss undressed.
Madonna smirked as the four women stood there nude,
before beckoning to someone behind them. Four someones
- four rather unpleasant someones. They were fairly
gross examples of manhood, which is precisely why
Madonna had chosen them from the island.

“Gentlemen, these ladies are all yours for the next
half hour… on the house. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Hi, big boy,” Jennifer smiled at the biggest and
fattest of the lot. “Don’t break me now…”

“I’ll try,” he grunted as he squashed his girth atop
the slim actress. Jennifer L. Hewitt tried to make
herself a bit more comfortable underneath the Zeppelin
of a man, but it was hopeless; she really hated seeing
his boobs flapping above her as well. The last time
she had had sex with someone with bigger tits than her
was when the cast of “Ally McBeal” had come to Cindy
Inc. to get over the show’s cancellation and Lisa
Nicole Carson had…

A loud, piercing cry cut through her memories.
Christina Aguilera was being spread out on the floor,
and her lover was sinking his teeth into her ass. A
whole row of love-bites was decorating the wee
songstress’s rump. The strange thing was she was
begging him to go on longer; his beard was scratching
her cheeks as he did.

As for Jessica Alba and Naomi Campbell, they were on
their knees in front of their men, being deeply boned
with the men’s sweaty stomachs blubbering against
their upright bottoms. The stench the men gave off was
making the women gag, but there was nothing they could
do about it except go with the flow.

Madonna, up in her office, watched on the screen as
JLH writhed underneath the Arbuckle-esque man, as
Christina turned and kissed her lover’s pungent, hairy
bottom, as Jessica began to fellate the two other men
at once, and as Naomi turned her attentions to the
front of the man Christina A. was working on. There
were no sounds coming from the octet; but there was
one coming from Madonna.

The sound of cruel, unchecked laughter…

* * * * * * * * * *

The following morning.

Cindy had managed to get to something resembling
sleep, and was having a wonderful dream. One of the
best she had ever had…

(“No! No! NOOO!!! I’ll do anything…” and that was as
far as Madonna got before Cindy closed her enlarged
mouth around Mrs. Ritchie’s head. Cindy’s glorious
body was distending around the middle, the curves
bending outwards in all directions and jiggling to and
fro. But then, she had just swallowed Christina
Aguilera alive and whole, and Miss A was in the midst
of being digested alongside Naomi, Kylie and Anna
Nicole Smith, in spite of all their struggles to try
and get out. Cindy slowly drew Madonna “Deeper and
Deeper” inside…)

Naomi Campbell, who had come to get the ladies out of
bed, could see the blissful smile on the moled one’s
face as she slumbered. Probably imagining she was
being fucked by every man on the planet. Dream on, she
thought, and let off the noisemaker that she preferred
to use as an alarm.

“What were you thinking of, Sleeping Beauty?” Naomi
sneered at the blinking-awake Cindy.

“I was dreaming about eating you,” Cindy replied. “It
was a wonderful dream.”

“It should be. I have a beautiful pussy,” Naomi
parried. “Time for the reunion with your friends.”

Cindy’s friends were already gathered in the main area
of the ‘Maverick’ when she and J-Lo were ushered in.
The stage was already clear, as if something was going
to be coming along soon. The women were all sitting
there, chatting as if they were waiting for a movie to
start. This was not making La Crawford feel any more
at ease, especially as in some cases they were merrily
yakking away with the women who were basically bossing
them around.

“So where’s Maddie? Fashionably late?” she asked
Naomi.

“No, she’ll be here just about…now.”

Right on cue, Madonna wiggled onto the stage,
surveying the crew. They were all there… well, Kelly
Brook, Sofia Vergara and Liv Tyler weren’t, but it was
just a matter of time. She studied the whole crew, and
paused to savour the moment. She had them right where
she wanted them… she might never get an Oscar, but
she had the Power. And she wasn’t about to let any of
them forget it the way Chrissy-wissy and Naomi would
forget what happened yesterday (hopefully they’d
washed the stink of those lardbutts off by now).

“Ladies,” Madonna started, getting their attention
from the off, “you’re the first members of the
Dollhouse. And a fine looking bunch of ladies you are
too.”

“She’s talking about you too,” Cindy whispered to
Danni Ashe.

“Zip it, bitch,” Danni whispered back.

“Now you’ll all be staying here on this yacht for the
next few weeks, but you won’t be idle. My launch party
will be held tonight with guests from the island – no
Trinidadians or Jamaicans of course,” she added with a
laugh. “All sworn to secrecy, I need hardly add. In
the meantime, no need to worry about those two women
here…” And spotlights landed on Cindy and Jennifer
Lopez, looking more and more furious. “After Kelly
Brook has said her piece they’ll be finished. And
their ladies will be joining me once you’ve all been
released… they’ll seduce each lady on Cindy’s roster
into joining me.”

“What about J-Lo’s?” asked Cindy.

“Yeah, my women don’t mix with hers. Not allowed,”
Lopez pointed out.

“And you said it was only transmitted through come,”
Cindy added.

“All I really need is one,” Madonna told her. “And
I’ve got one. As for moleface’s point here – I said it
could be transferred through come, but that’s not the
only way.” She took a small tube from her dress and
twisted it open. “You see? Also available in lipstick
fashion.”

Jennifer Lopez nodded slowly; Kelly Brook could get
any one of her ladies, and since she had a reputation
for keeping in practice with the colleagues at every
chance, there’d be no stopping her. “But why are you
making like THRUSH and telling us?”

“Because, my little Solo and Kuryakin, no one’s going
to believe you two. Just like they won’t believe you
with this… before I make you ladies make a pledge, I
think it’s time Anna Nicole Smith took the floor.”

Anna Nicole Smith strode in, mountainous breasts
wobbling this way and that, gargantuan behind heaving
to and fro, face set in perky determination as she
tugged on her leash. “Quarantine laws meant she
couldn’t bring her beloved Sugar Pie with her,”
Madonna continued, “but we’ve got a perfect
replacement. Folks, I give you Anna “the American
Barbara Woodhouse” Nicole Smith and someone who, like
Sugar Pie, is a bitch…”

Walking on hands and knees and completely naked, and
making noises like a little doggie, a collared Brooke
Burke followed her “mistress” onto the stage and let
her tongue pant out of her mouth. “Ooooh… who’s
mummy’s little girl… you’re a good dog aren’t you?”
she babbled, going down to her “pet”‘s eye level.
Everyone, especially Cindy and J-Lo, watched in
stunned disbelief as Brooke barked twice, and actually
slobbered over Anna Nicole’s face, licking it in
greeting.

“Good dog!” Anna Nicole gurgled. “GOOD DOG! Now run
along for your breakfast, Sugar…”

“Ruff! Ruff-ruff! RUFF!” woofed Brooke, scuttling
across the stage, bending her head down and munching
on the food within. And it actually WAS dog food…

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